Second Chances
by redvelvetcupcakes
Summary: Post Aliyah- Ziva returns to America and even after everything they've done, after everything they said to one another. Tony and Ziva might just get another chance, provided they can survive what lies ahead. TIVA & MCABBY. Read and Review
1. Chapter 1

A/N - Like a good million plus viewers out there I am DYING for the next season of NCIS. Seriously I don't have any ideas, short of a dvd marathon of all previous seasons to keep myself sane. So this is my unlikely theory of what happens next. TIVA of course, cause its about bloody time. And MCABBY if I can fit them in.  
Vance goes down too!  
Oh and I own nothing.

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Second Chance

Prologue-

_Three months and twenty-five days following the death of Jennifer Sheppard, Director of NCIS._

Rivkin's ears were still ringing after the previous night's explosion. His head ached from the day's work and he wanted nothing more than a cold beer, which was why he was walking into 'Yankee Doodle' at three o'clock in the morning. 'Yankee Doodle' was an American bar, opened by an American pilot who'd smuggled Jews into Israel following the Holocaust and never left. It was as close to the United States of America as one could get in Israel and the only bar open at after midnight in walking/staggering distance of the Mossad base.  
So he wasn't all that surprised to see another Mossad agent there.  
He was surprised that it was Ziva David.

Michael Rivkin was new to Mossad. He had been transferred from the army after helping shut down a terrorist base- an act of luck more than actual skill. Ziva had been his control officer for all his missions so far, ensuring he wouldn't screw up until he was able to handle it by himself. Other agents taunted him for this, telling him he should consider himself fortunate that he had none other than 'Mossad's Daughter' taking care of him. He resented the mockery, the expectations that he would fail at any second, the only person who never treated him so was none other than Ziva herself.

He had heard stories of the David family, back in the army where many Israeli soldiers had occasionally had opportunity to liaise with Mossad. They claimed that Ziva David, now the only surviving child of Eli David, could throw a knife to slice a fly in half, that to have her as your enemy was the biggest and last mistake you could make.

When he met her at Mossad headquarters, she had just returned from a run, sweating with a terrible orange hat that the entry guard had joked would provide the terrorists with an easy target. She had laughed and poked him in the belly, before throwing a casual smile at Rivkin,  
"Hi" she greeted, coming forward with her hand outstretched, "You're my new Probie?"  
It had taken Rivkin a moment to understand her, though she spoke Hebrew, her accent was broader, a slight twang he hadn't encountered in Israel before. She grinned and took his hand, shaking it firmly,  
"Sorry...I am just back from America, I picked up too much of the language over there"

That wasn't all she had picked up. Rivkin would often overhear other agents talking when they thought he wasn't listening, they would always show surprise at the 'New' Ziva, at her easy-going ways, her jokes, and her new love of American movies. There was a rumour going around the Mossad base that she had taken a weekend trip to jump a border and buy dozens of pirated copies of American movies starring Jack Nicholson. She also visited the 'Yankee Doodle' with alarming frequency, often having late lunches or dinner there, actually _eating_ the grease-drenched food.

And now she was drinking a pitcher of a multi-coloured liquid with enough alcohol for Rivkin to smell it three feet away, it was half-empty and, judging from the speed with which Ziva David babbled English to the startled bartender, she hadn't been sharing.

"Ziva?" Rivkin approached her slowly, giving her warning lest he shock her and wind up with a broken collarbone, which had legendarily happened to _her_ control officer. She whirled around on the barstool to face him,  
"Probie!" she cried, lunging forward and landing her chin on his shoulder bone in a sloppy hug, she gripped him tight for a moment and then released him, somehow managing to make it back to her previous position without sliding from the stool. Rivkin worried when he saw the loose smile on Ziva's face and her large pupils, wondering what her blood alcohol level was.

"Come sit with me" she invited, patting empty air beside her, cautiously Rivkin took the barstool next to her and looked about for a glass, hoping that he could prevent some of Ziva's beverage from going into her mouth or at the very least surreptitiously distil the alcohol with some water.  
There wasn't one to be seen- and in the next moment Rivkin saw why.  
Ziva David was apparently saving time by having several straws in the pitcher.

She drank from three of them now and he was at a loss as to what to do. The bartender seemed to be in the same position, when he approached and laid a careful hand on Ziva's near-empty pitcher, probably hoping to cut her off, she growled at him. Actually _growled_ like a dog eating his meal.

Feeling a slight twinge of disappointment, Rivkin decided to act before word got back to Mossad that he'd allowed Ziva David to drink herself stupid without even trying to intervene.

"Ziva" he caught her small, delicate wrist in her hand, keeping a firm grip like she had trained him to do, "Let me take you home"

She burst out laughing at this, loud clear tones that cut across the music and caused several fat tourists to glare in their direction. A faint blush crept over his cheeks and he wondered what his chances would be if he attempted to get her out of here by force. Thankfully he didn't have to find out; at that moment Ziva leapt to her feet with surprising swiftness and pulled her wallet from her jacket. Clumsily she fingered her notes before taking several bills and handing them to the bartender. The man took one look and turned to Rivkin,  
"I don't speak English" he explained, holding the notes out to him,  
"But your American friend has given me far too much"

Rather than explain that Ziva was more Israeli than the bartender could ever hope to be, Rivkin relayed the message back to Ziva who simply laughed again,  
"Tell him it's his tip for not cutting me off after the first round of drinks!"  
Infuriated, Rivkin slammed the money down on the polished wood of the bar and glared at the irresponsible bartender before taking Ziva's arm and escorting her from the 'Yankee Doodle'.

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Just a short intro to throw Rivkin and his drinking problem into perspective. The next two chapters were originally one, but reading three thousand plus words in one go is not fun.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Read and Review it lets me know what to do.

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Only a few unbroken street lamps lit the empty road before them. Not that it mattered, Rivkin had been trained to find his way to Mossad in the dark, and Ziva David could probably find her way back to the base blindfolded from any part of Israel.

Drunk however, was another matter.

She was ambling along, tripping in the gutter and stumbling onto the road, Rivkin hurried after her but she jumped back onto the pavement and stood there, swaying waiting for him to catch up.

"Burden...being...Probie...yes" her words were so slurred; he could hardly make them out.

He could only hope that the night air would sober her up a bit.

Sighing she leant against him, sliding an arm about his waist and resting her head against his arm. Though over the last three months she had touched him several times, a finger on the shoulder to gain his attention, a hand on his waist when guiding him in Mossad weaponry training, those touches had been thoughtless and fleeting. This was a type of intimacy, one Rivkin recognised from his previous relationships with women. He knew some women considered him handsome, he'd dated since he was sixteen and had several serious girlfriends.

"I miss McGee" Ziva blurted suddenly, startling him. He looked down at Ziva, her eyes straight ahead but he guessed she wasn't seeing the night around her.  
"McGee was always good for a tease or a bit of comfort" she rambled on, giggling. "You remind me a bit of McGee, taking care of me like this, though Abby would have done the same"  
"Abby?" he asked curiously,  
"Abby the foren...the....Abby" she stuttered, clearly not sober yet. "Always so cheerful, so full of life. Though if she'd found me like this...she would have called Gibbs...or To-"

She stopped so suddenly Rivkin was sure something was wrong. They were at the gates to the Mossad base and she was rubbing frantically at her eyes.  
Keeping an arm about her shoulders to steady her, Michael leaned across to punch the code into the alarm system; the gates began to slide open, revealing the night security guard. He nodded at them both as they stumbled in, watching Ziva David with impassive eyes. Leaving Rivkin hoping that word wouldn't get back to Eli David about this.

Ziva David's living quarters were on the fourth floor, near the weapons caches and the board rooms. She was quiet as he led her up there, still leaning against him, but no longer smiling and cheerful. They climbed the cold stairs, shivering in the unheated building and finally reached the white-washed door that lead to Ziva's private life. She was breathing deeply now and Rivkin was worried she was about to be ill, surely she was still recovering from her injuries following the explosion?

He was stunned when she spun around quickly in his arms and kissed him, so shocked that at first he automatically responded, resting his hands on her shoulders as she kissed him hungrily. He could taste the alcohol on her breath, but when he felt her strong lithe body against his own, everything seemed to melt away to reveal one thing. His own desire.  
He'd never met a woman like Ziva David, so fiery, so devoted, so passionate about what she believed in. She lived in a world of men, all judging her on her femineity alone, but she stood tall and earned their respect and admiration. And now she was kissing him and holding him like he'd begun fantasizing she would,

"Come inside" she whispered, her wild hair falling in her face as she fumbled to open her bedroom door. They staggered into her well-lit room and crashed onto her single bed, sending papers falling to the floor, followed quickly by their clothes. Ziva's actions were clumsy, sounds of frustration catching in her throat as she tried to remove her blouse. Catching her fingers with his own, Michael stopped her and undressed her himself, taking each item off slowly, testing her for the slightest hesitation. He laid her back against the bed, resting her head on the pillows. They kissed again, with less urgency this time, luxuriously he removed his clothes and lay atop her, running his hands over her soft body, and caressing every little scar that was a testament to the soldier she was. With his fingers he found her ready and eager, and unable to restrain himself, he entered her. She grunted at the intrusion, wrapping her arms about his shoulders and turning her face away, looking into the distance. Michael followed her gaze and saw nothing but a battered, old dresser with a few photo frames; he kissed her neck, eager to catch her attention.

"Ony..." the word fell from her lips, and he could barely make the word out, sounding to him like English or German. Following his need, his pace increased, but Ziva seemed to have lost all interest, to be in another world. Tentatively he raised a hand cup her right breast, teasing the nipple, she moaned and arched against him, finally responding.  
"Tony" she gasped, closing her eyes as Rivkin froze above her. Suddenly she thrust frantically against him, trembling like a pinned bird, she carried herself over the edge, her moans becoming louder and her nails digging into his skin.  
"Tony!" she cried into the night, her voice piercing the overall silence and the chill of the room. His passion lost, Rivkin withdrew as she trembled with aftershocks, weeping as she slipped under the sheets and curled up onto her side, her hair shielding her face as she fell asleep. Quickly and quietly he got dressed, stepping around the papers on the floor, buttoning up his shirt, he bent over before the dresser and looked at the photos. Smiling people looked out at him from each one. The first was obviously a young Ziva with her siblings, the second was of a woman dressed in black and ridiculous make-up waving so quickly at the camera her hand was a blur, the third was a large group of people, an older man and woman, one man with light brown receding hair and another man, taller than the rest, smirking for all it was worth. He was in the final picture as well, standing alone, leaning against a desk, not smiling this time, but looking through the camera curiously, his head tilted in silent query, as though he wanted to see the secrets of the picture-taker. Uncomfortable with the knowing stare of the stranger he'd never met; he finished buttoning up his shirt and hurried to the door, taking care to lock it behind him.  
Confused, upset and not a little ashamed. Rivkin took a deep breath and turned his back on his control officer, to find Eli David sitting in a chair in the hallway, picking his nails. Slowly he raised his head and grinned,

"Shalom Michael. Tell me how was your night?"

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A/N- Eli David= Evil Dadi


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - Own nothing.

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Michael Rivkin's heart sank.  
"F-fine" he stammered before the wise gaze of the head of Mossad. Cursing himself he took a deep breath, "Officer David, allow me to explain..."  
"Walk with me Michael" Eli David ordered suddenly, leaping to his feet with leonine grace, resting a hand on the younger man's shoulders, he began to lead him away from Ziva's bedroom, towards his office.

"You see, there is very little that occurs amongst my Mossad agents without my knowledge, and that that does, well it does not stay so for very long. You understand?"  
Michael nodded, even though he felt sick with anxiety, wondering what Eli David would do to him. Though the Head of Mossad worked for the preservation of Israel, most of his actions were above the law of his country. For a lifetime of services, he was granted blind-eye immunity, meaning he could handle his enemies as he wished, and as long as he did not kill them openly in the streets and parade their bodies throughout the courtyard of the Temple he would not be brought to justice. Were he to kill Michael now, and toss his body into the Jordan, nobody would raise a hand against him.

Inside his sumptuously decorated office, Eli David motioned for him to sit on his leather couch, before walking over to his coffee machine and offering him an espresso.  
"I would offer you some liquor...but you've already had the opportunity for that tonight" Eli chortled, sweeping back over and sitting himself in his overstuffed armchair.

"Now," he took a long, loud sip of his coffee and settled back,  
"Tell me Michael, am I right in thinking that the name I heard my daughter cry tonight was not your own?"  
His humiliation laid bare, Michael nodded and swallowed back the bile in his throat, looking down at his clenched hands, "She called out to a man named Tony"

"Ha!"  
Eli David brought his small china cup down onto the table with enough force to shatter the cup, his nonchalant manner now a clear facade. Immediately Michael stood to help him clean up, but he was waved away. A spotless handkerchief was produced and the spots of coffee on the table dabbed at, placing the now stained fabric back into his inner jacket pocket, Eli David leant back,  
"And I suppose you are curious as to who this man is?"  
Truthfully, Michael didn't want to know, he wanted to forget the whole incident, but he knew what was expected of him, dutifully he nodded.

"His name is Anthony Marcus DiNozzo" Eli announced, "Or Tony, as I hear he prefers to be called. He is a Special Agent with NCIS, one of the talented agents responsible for bringing my son down"  
Reaching over to his antique filing cabinet, he slid open a draw and removed a thick, heavy folder.  
"Now I am to understand that there was no sexual intimacy between this man and my daughter, however..." he opened the file and spilled the contents across the table.

Michael saw dozens upon dozens of pictures before him; cautiously he reached over and picked up the one closest to him. He recognised Ziva instantly, though it was a dark night and it was obviously a spy shot. She was standing in the doorway of a terrace home, her body turned, her head over her shoulder, wearing only a simple white wife beater and jeans. A man stood towering above her, wearing a long coat, with the collar pulled up. Only his back was visible, but Michael was able to recognise him instantly.  
It was same man in the photo Ziva David had been looking at.  
He picked up another picture, it was daytime now and Ziva and this man were on a public street, both walking with their heads down but bent, closer together, both holding Styrofoam cups. The next photo in his hand showed the same scene, except this time Ziva was drinking from one of the cups.  
The cup in Anthony DiNozzo's hand.  
Another photo showed them walking through a forest, Ziva gesturing enthusiastically with her hands, her face turned up to Anthony DiNozzo and his eyes fixated on her.

"You see..." Eli David brought his hand down upon Michael's as he made to reach for another photo,  
"Whilst I may be willing to believe that there was no sexual intimacy between Anthony DiNozzo and my daughter," he shrugged meaningfully, "Sex isn't always the closest you can be to another human being"  
Michael's cheeks burned with that dig, he nodded dutifully again. "Since my daughter's return to Israel, I've had reason to suspect she cares for this man...perhaps too much. When she left for Washington, she was Mossad and Israeli loyalist through and through. Three months ago, when she returned, I realised that something in America had her putting the interests of NCIS and the United States before that of her own country and co-workers"  
He shook his head, looking every bit the mournful father, "Were this to have happened to anyone else, I would have simply cut them loose, but my daughter is the last part of my legacy to Mossad...and for too long, was too good an assassin to not feel the loss her removal would impart of the Intelligence sector"  
Sighing, he picked up a single photo and placed it into Michael's hand.  
"I would like you to ensure that I will never have to take those steps Michael, or welcome an American agent into my family"  
Dread settled over Rivkin as Eli David's meaning became all too clear, he was dismissed and wandered from the room, feeling lost all of a sudden.  
He was new to Mossad, but had assumed that he would one day have to pretend to be someone's lover. When he'd given it fleeting thought, he'd always predicted it would be years into the future. Not mere months. Looking down at his hand where he was clutching the photo, he turned it over to find himself looking at a concrete yard, with a large garage before him. Ziva and this man were once again in the frame, this time standing so close to one another you couldn't see the space between their clothes, and though Rivkin could not see their faces clearly, he could imagine the desperation and desire.  
Suddenly he found himself craving a gin and tonic with ridiculous thirst.

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A/N- And that was why he was boozy Mcbooze booze


	4. Chapter 4

A/N- Enter Ziva in a cell in North Africa.

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_Present Day_

_Ziva Sarah David knew she was going to die.  
She was going to die alone, in a dark, hopeless cell in the depths of North Africa.  
And she would never see Anthony Marcus DiNozzo again.  
Somehow that fact tore her to pieces in a way the men who tortured her had not managed yet._

She would never see Anthony bounding towards her with his endless energy and boyish charm.  
She would never hear him making endless movie references or light-hearted jokes at the most impropriate times.  
She would never feel his hand gently touching her hair to quickly muss it up and snatch it back before she could swat him. That had been a particular favourite pastime for him, he'd wait until she least expected it and then sneak up on her. It reminded her of the lion cub in the children's movie she'd glimpsed once, when Abby had thrown a week-long marathon during an important case.  
She had been a brilliant Mossad assassin, respected amongst the Intelligence community for her skill and intuition. And laid-back, Tony DiNozzo, who'd relied on his athleticism to open doors throughout his education, his full potential untapped until he reached NCIS, ruffled her hair without the least fear regarding her ability to harm him.

Because, for her, harming him had never been an option.

Even when she'd pressed her gun to his body, when she had felt his fragile heartbeat pounding against her stomach, and the seductive knowledge that, for the most fleeting of moments, his life was hers to do with as she wished, to cause him physical pain had never truly occurred to her.  
To do so would be to hurt herself, three times over.

It had started as a confusing itch when they'd first met, but as the days became weeks, then months then years, it became passion.  
Undeniable, unacceptable passion.

She had done things in Mossad that would stun him; on the surface she could make attempts to have fun. They could tease and flirt with one another; they could play pranks on McGee or exchange a glance and be in perfect accord. But at the end of the day, she came from a different world, one he would never truly understand and one she didn't want him to.  
They stood two different planes, able to see one another, but never able to cross the gap to reach the other side.  
Knowing this had driven her to Michael Rivkin.

They'd left the office of the newly appointed Director Vance, shaken and stunned with the knowledge that they were being disbanded. All subconsciously waiting for Gibbs to emerge from Vance's office and countermand the Director's orders, because they could receive a command from the President of the United States himself, but if Gibbs said otherwise then that command meant nothing. Not speaking, they moved as slowly as possible but when they reached the bottom of the stairs where four MPs stood.  
Two apiece for Tony and herself.

She was escorted from the Navy yard too quickly, she didn't even have time to wave goodbye, and she was thrown onto the next flight to Israel and touching down in Tel Aviv before her father even knew she was due back.  
Ziva felt a physical pain inside her, torn without consideration from Tony and her friends, from the life she had been slowly building for herself, every second she missed NCIS with searing agony.

She'd met Rivkin in Tel Aviv, new to Mossad, but admired by her father. Something in his smile reminded her of Tony, they'd become lovers and in the following months she had tricked herself into believing that he would be everything she had wanted with Tony back in Washington.  
Then she had been recalled.

She had returned to NCIS. To Gibbs, to McGee, to Abby, Ducky, Palmer and Tony.  
Ziva realised just how truly idiotic she had been. Michael wasn't Tony, faced with her best-friend again she saw that the man she'd been sleeping with was nothing but a pale imitation of the one she really loved.

She felt a sense of shame when Tony questioned her about her time in Israel. She wanted desperately to go back to the way things had been. When she and Tony had been best friends, with their attraction for each other being nothing more than the occasional uncomfortable moment. It wasn't possible though, since Jenny Sheppard, since Jeanne, Tony had grown up. She could tell from the rumours around NCIS and through her own observations that he was no longer dating a different woman every night and sleeping with the majority of them, as far as she was aware, he'd stopped sleeping with these women altogether.  
Something about that frightened her more than seeing him at gunpoint on dangerous missions, perhaps because she knew that he was waiting for her? She knew that with only the slightest tilt of her head, the merest sign of acquiescence and they would both be surrendering to the desire between them.

But Gibbs had created his rules for a reason- and it wasn't so two of his team mates could flout them.  
Eli David. Her father didn't have such a set of rules in place, but he had already made it clear where his preferences lay. He wanted a ruthless soldier for his little girl. Oh, he would speak of his longing for fat, pacifist grandchildren, but when faced with the option, he wanted a long line of Mossad agents to follow him- the more brilliant a legacy could hardly be found.  
And she had been raised to obey her father in all matters, even if it went against her wishes.

This was why she sat tied to a chair, rope and barbed wire cutting into her wrists and heels, as through her swollen eyes she saw the air simmer with the unrelenting morning heat. Her throat was raw with thirst, her lips torn from beatings. Large chunks of her hair lay on the concrete floor, blood and tar weighing them down. Her bare arms contained both shallow and deep cuts and she could feel the burning sting of infection. Her legs were bare from where her pants had been ripped, and her toes were the deepest shade of purple from where they had been broken.  
Her will to live was one of the few parts of her left untorn.  
But when she heard the door open and heard the familiar cocky laugh of her torturer as he entered the cell, it was hard to remember why she wanted to survive.

His shoulder leaning against the window. Trent Kort watched impassively as once again Ziva David cried out in imaginary agony. The numerous machines attached to her body singing as the phantom pain took her again. Sighing, he took a step away from the door as several nurses hurried past to renew their daily rounds of check and dose. Once they made sure Ms David was no longer suffering physical pain, they dosed her so full of morphine and whatnot that she spent the next twenty-four hours unconscious and hopefully dream-free.  
"You told me she would be recovered by now" he reminded the quivering doctor at his side. The man nodded apologetically, "Unfortunately her condition is far worse than what we had previously thought, and it is possible she could be suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for the next several years..."  
"I don't have several years" Kort told the doctor, pulling himself up to his full height and staring the smaller doctor straight in the eye, "I doubt I even have several weeks"  
The man foolishly tried to be brave, "You have her booked down for something important?"  
"Yes actually," Kort snapped, feeling his always fragile temper rise, "We have a Christmas ball at the CIA coming up and she's the only person I know whose looks compliment my tuxedo!"  
In spite of himself, he had to resist the urge to hit this man. The last time he had hit a doctor at the Bethesda hospital it had taken the threat of a full tax audit to get the doctor in question, and the board, to drop the charges. Perhaps sensing how close he was to receiving a black eye, the doctor in question tried another tactic.  
"Therapy, months and months of therapy might work, provided we can get her to believe that she is no longer in..." he checked his chart, "Austria?..."  
Kort nodded, not about to divulge the truth to a civilian. The doctor continued, "However to convince her that she is safe, I would suggest we get a relative or close friend in to talk with her...someone she trusts"

'Someone she trusts'  
Rivkin mused over the words, surprising himself by not scoffing at the quacks suggestion. At this point, if he had any hope of getting Ziva functioning again soon, he would have to try it.  
Well, her father was certainly out of the question. Kort even felt a faint sense of unease when he pictured Eli now. And since Tony DiNozzo had got trigger-happy with Ziva's last boyfriend, he wasn't aware of any loved ones Ziva had in Israel who might defy her father.  
This left Trent Kort with one option.  
One, _very_ unsavoury option.  
Sighing again, he waved a hand to dismiss the doctor and withdrew his cell phone from his pocket.  
Browsing through his exceptionally short phonebook, he found the number he was looking for and hit dial, pacing the corridor. It was the middle of the night, but his call was answered on only the second ring.  
"Yeah?"  
He didn't bother announcing his name, Kort respected that, at the same time wondering if it was arrogance that led the man to believe everybody recognised his voice, whether on the phone or in person.  
"Hello Gibbs" he greeted politely, "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you"

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A/N- Yep when you're screwed Dial 1800-Gibbs. Callers be advised that any mistake on your part, even made prior to the call will result in one or more head slaps.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- I still own nothing.

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After twenty-five years working as the head nurse in the trauma ward of Bethesda Hospital, there were things Nurse Washington had learnt to dread.  
One was the holidays- Christmas, New Year's Eve, Valentine's Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving...all the major American holidays always saw a spike in the trauma ward.  
The second was large-scale destruction- not for the reason most people would think, with dozens of wounded being brought through the doors and everyone running around like headless chickens, but because every two-bit politician and celebrity would crowd the hallways for their moment on the camera and it would be impossible to get any work done.  
The third thing she dread the most, being rated third only because it bore less effect on the hospital as a whole than it did on her was one of her NCIS eight.

Now seven since the death of Director Sheppard. But she called them that, because whenever one of them was wounded, the ambulance that carried them to the doors would be succeeded by a convoy containing the rest of the group. For some reason, the NCIS eight didn't seem to think the rules applied to them, she still bore a grudge for the night Director Sheppard had made a call to the White House to force her to open the doors to the trauma ward. Whenever one of their own went through those doors, the rest would simply try to follow; ignoring all signs that said contrariwise and heaven help the doctors if information wasn't brought back to them fast enough.  
Nurse Washington had no problems with any other NCIS agents, they all waited in the foyer for the doctors to come to them, and they were willing to stand _outside_ the trauma ward, understanding hospital policy. Just those particular eight agents were ever so stressful.  
So when she saw a familiar crown of silver hair making its way towards her, she inwardly sighed and kissed goodbye to her quiet night.

"Sarah John"  
'Ol' Grey bastard' as Nurse Washington had christened him, never remembering his name, slapped his hands on the counter and settled his fierce eyes on her face. He didn't give her any more information, didn't tell her where to be looking for this patient, didn't even ask how her night was!  
"Just one moment, sir" she answered in clipped tones, wondering how she could have ever thought this man attractive at one point. He was like a panda bear, absolutely adorable from a distance, but when you got too close...Bam! There went your ring finger.

She pulled up the file and, automatically reading over the symptoms of the young woman, paled extensively. Suddenly, rules didn't matter anymore, the fact she didn't like any of her NCIS eight, didn't matter anymore. Carefully she swallowed back on the bile rising in her throat.  
"Trauma One. Room Eight" she told him quietly, stretching out to press the button, just before she did, she raised her eyes to meet his, "And you _get_ however is responsible for putting her in here" she told him and saw his eyes light up with accord and understanding.  
"Thank-you"  
It wasn't until the door was closing behind Special Agent Gibbs, did he hear the sound of the nurse crying.  
It filled him a sickening dread.

Weaving through the corridors of the trauma ward, Gibbs wasn't so much looking for a room as he was looking for the man who had called him only thirty minutes ago. He hoped for Kort's sake that he had a damn good reason to have put off calling him, and he would give him time to explain before he made his next move.  
Spotting him up ahead, he marched through the hallway, stopping barely a centimetre from his face,  
"Explanation. Now!" he barked in a voice which had left lesser men shaking in their boots.  
Trent Kort barely battered an eyelid.  
"Yes Gibbs' I am perfectly well. I do love the weather this time of year, reminds me of Europe"  
Gibbs raised in eyebrows and waited silently, after one minute, he sighed and jerked his head indicating for him to follow.  
"I was in North Africa a month ago, working undercover, when I heard rumours of a baby terrorist cell bragging that they'd caught a NCIS agent and were torturing her for information"

They were still walking. Gibbs was sure of that, but he felt as though it was occurring from a distance, he felt as though he were going into shock.  
An NCIS agent...  
He knew for a fact that if an NCIS agent had been AWOL or MIA for longer than a week, he would have been told. It was an unofficial rule at the Navy Yard, built up through years of service. It didn't matter how classified a mission was, how top secret, if an agent was missing, Gibbs was told. Sometimes he was let in on the case, other times he was asked for advice, sometimes he wasn't able to be of any use to the matter at all. His helpfulness was irrelevant, Gibbs was the unofficial second Director at NCIS, he didn't do the paperwork, but the Secretary of the Navy or the other organisations would often run something by him before it even got to the authorized Director.  
Just because he was Gibbs, some considered him to be the best in his field, sans his manners.  
So when Kort spoke of an NCIS agent, he realised that there was only one person who might be classified as one, even though she'd verbally resigned several months back.  
"And...?" somehow the strangled word escaped his body. Thankfully, though he probably realised the impact of his statement, Kort didn't turn to see his distressed comrade but kept walking.

"I dug around a little" he admitted, "Truthfully I was not that interested or concerned. I assumed, as did everybody else that sooner or later the Marines or someone else would go in guns blazing to do a dramatic rescue. When a month passed however, and the rumours kept growing...I went to see for myself, make sure that they actually had an agent and not just some poor local woman they were keeping for entertainment..."  
"Since when do you give a damn what happens to civilians?" Gibbs interrupted, talking so he didn't have to think. Besides it was a long standing fact in the Intelligence world that Kort would walk past a building full of puppies and kittens burning to the ground to complete his mission.  
Kort gave a self-depreciating smirk at that comment, "You're right I don't, but in case you've forgotten Gibbs, as matters currently stand, I owe you a favour. Rescuing an NCIS agent would certainly put the scales back in balance"

He stopped before a room and turned to doorknob, pushing open the door as quietly as possible,  
"So I went along...and when I discovered the identity of this agent...I arranged for another cell to take out the cocky bastards and when they were busy celebrating, quietly removed her from the cell and smuggled her back to America"

The room was dark, the lights of the machines casting only an infinitesimal glow on the wall behind the bed.  
The bed where a wounded woman lay. For a moment Gibbs looked around for another bed, one that contained the agent he would instantly recognise. Unfortunately there wasn't one.  
Leroy Jethro Gibbs had to look into the scarred face of the woman he had let down.  
"Ah hell, Ziva" he murmured, coming forward to rest a hand on her plastered leg,  
"I'm sorry"

Suddenly one of the many beeping machines picked up tempo and a familiar suckling noise escaped from his agent. An alarm went off and the usual flock of nurses came in,  
"She's choking" he told one of the women unnecessarily and she absently nodded, he had been beside too many bedsides not to know what this meant.  
Ziva David was waking up.  
Her eyes were cracking open now, small swollen slits, beneath them Gibbs could make out her pupils moving frantically about, taking in as much of the scene around her as she could.  
Carefully the nurses removed the tube from her throat and she gagged, struggling against her various straps. It was then that Gibbs noticed that Ziva's wrists were bound to the bed frame. He looked about for a nurse to undo the binding but caught Kort's eye and saw him shake his head, feeling growing frustration and helplessness, Gibbs pushed past a nurse and pressed his mouth to Ziva's ear.  
"Ziva...It's Gibbs...can you understand me?"

She moaned, clearly under the influence of several painkillers.  
"Tony?!" she moved her wrapped head as much as she could, obviously searching the room as she asked that question. Gibbs tried again, "No. It's Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs Ziva, do you understand?"  
"Tony" This time Gibbs realised it wasn't a question, despite the numerous bruises and scars on her face, he recognised that stubborn pout of her lips- or the attempt of it anyway.  
Chewing his tongue, Gibbs admitted defeat, he wasn't going to argue with a wounded woman in a hospital bed, he was too much a chauvinist for that.  
"I'll bring him as soon as I can" he promised, pressing his lips to her head bandage, "You just concentrate on getting well"

"She asked for DiNozzo..." Kort prompted, closing the door behind them as they left Ziva David sleeping. Gibbs knew he wanted answers but he was debating whether to give them, in the world of NCIS and CIA, even a little information from your past could kick you in the ass later. How many times would Jenny have suffered judgment in the eyes of her mainly male peers because she had been _his_ protégée and lover? Certainly knowledge of her carnal history with him wouldn't have helped her in the director's chair. However Kort had rescued Ziva...and, for some reason or another, was keeping her safely hidden in the United States and had alerted NCIS to her presence or Gibbs at least anyway.

"Yeah" Gibbs relented, his night shift coffee alarm alerting him with a vengeance, "she did"  
"Odd" Kort pronounced it, walking Gibbs out, he would stay and keep watch over David,  
"Usually when someone murders your lover, you don't ask for them at your bedside..."  
"She needs someone she can trust not to be betraying her," Gibbs decided, working out the quickest route to the nearest coffee machine, "By her reckoning DiNozzo's not capable"  
"Even though he spent several months romancing Jeanne Benoit on the orders of your late director?"  
That Tony had been stolen out from under him by Jenny and their previous partnership ruined by the mission, still rankled Gibbs.  
"Tony was conning a perfect stranger," he attempted to explain, "And even then he couldn't do it without falling for her. Tony...cares too much for the truth and doing what's right...I reckon that's why he became a cop in the first place, so he could find out the truth...and even if he were under orders from _whoever_ now to trick Ziva, I don't think he could bring himself to do it. He'd find some way to stand up to them or warn Ziva...that's why she asking for him"  
"He's the only one of your team that she can trust to do this?"  
Gibbs stared at the coffee machine before him and, from memory, surreptitiously kicked the side with his foot, a cup popped out and the machine started whirring as it served him his liquid gold,  
"Maybe he is...but," he ripped open three packets of sugar and poured them into the cup,  
"That won't be the main reason she's asking for him"

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- Tony and Ziva reunite next chapter.

* * *

"McGee...McGee come quick!"

Special Agent Timothy McGee stepped from the elevator to the sound of Abby Scuito frantically calling him, concerned he hurried to the Forensics Lab, his hand on his gun holster, looking about for signs of trouble.

After all these years he should have known better.

The first thing he noticed was the music, it sounded so much like a Christmas carol, but had the same low-throated screaming typical of Abby's music.  
The next thing he noticed was the tinsel, red and gold tinsel hung around the room, touching down to the floor at several ends. The lights in the lab had been replaced with deep gold bulbs, casting the room into a dim yellow glow and a six ft tree stood beside the mass spectrometer, currently bare but likely to be decorated later.

"Well? What'ya think?"

Abby appeared before him, looking like a gothic elf. Little gold bells swinging from her pigtails, her face stretched into a grin and her hands splayed to gesture to the whole room.

"It's..." McGee searched his head for the correct word. His family had never gone all out for Christmas, ninety-percent of the time their trees had been plastic.

"Great Abs," he finished lamely and Abby's smile fell.

"You don't like it!" she guessed, reminding him of a sad puppy whose owner refused to pat him.

Immediately he tried to rectify the situation. "No...I do Abby, it's..." he looked around at the lab equipment covered in mistletoe, "Almost perfect"

"I don't want almost perfect McGee" Abby complained, shuffling into the next room and coming back with two heavy bags, she handed one to McGee and he opened it cautiously to find cottonwool,

"Wha-?" he opened his mouth to ask what he was supposed to do when he saw Abby trailing the cottonwool about the lab, giving the impression of snowfall. Digging his hand into the bag and removing a clump, he hung it on the corner of a filing cabinet, trying to pay attention both to Abby and his snow.

"I want this Christmas to be the best that's ever been had at NCIS," Abby announced as she brushed the wool across her second keyboard "I want everyone to be filled with the Christmas spirit and cheer...I want to see Tony smile again"

She spoke the last part of her sentence so quietly that at first McGee thought he had misheard her,

* * *

"He does smile Abs" he attempted pathetically, only to be rewarded with raised eyebrows,

"A real smile, Timmy" she amended, "A Tony DiNozzo smile...not the ghost of Anthony DiNozzo smile"

Timothy McGee didn't entirely understand what Abby was saying, but he understood the meaning behind her words. Ever since Tony and Gibbs had returned from Israel, a team member short- Tony had been a different person.

No longer did he rush into work late, rubbing frantically at his neck to get rid of some woman's lipstick. Now, when McGee took a call for Tony, it was usually business related and not a high voiced bimbo wanting to know when she would see Tony again. Yesterday when McGee had come into work with a sprained wrist from moving his typewriter, Tony hadn't laughed or begun an endless round of teasing. He'd just nodded and continued with  
his paperwork,

His paperwork!

Only half a year ago, nothing short of an order from Gibbs could have got Tony to do his paperwork. Heck, even an order from Gibbs wouldn't always have worked with Tony, not if there was something else in the bullpen to distract him. Another team member, something funny on the computer, air....

Half a year ago, when Tony had walked into a room, he'd usually made an entrance. People just looked at him and when he spoke they had paid attention. Now, he could sneak into a room to make Gibbs proud. Except he wasn't sneaking...he was just...not being Tony.

McGee had never thought he would miss 'real' Tony...but he did. The old Tony irritated him, infuriated him and would play pranks on him nearly every other week, but...he was family, like the goofy cool older brother who helped the other jocks pick on him at school, but watched television with him at home.

* * *

His mood sinking, McGee wondered if using glittery hairspray would give the snow a more Christmassy feel. He asked Abby, raising his voice when he realised she was in the next room,

"Yeah it would McGee" a soft voice called from the doorway.

Filled with habitual dread at the impending mockery, Timothy McGee turned around to find Anthony DiNozzo filling the doorway to the forensics lab.  
Dressed in dark hues, his hair now fell to his ears, not having been cut since...

'Before Israel probably' McGee thought, as he watched the senior field agent look about the lab with detached interest.

"Tony!" Abby gave an excited squeal and barrelled towards him, catching him in a large bear hug,

"Hi Abs" Tony grunted, possibly knocked breathless from the force of an Abigail Scuito hug.

McGee waited patiently for Abby to release Tony, sensing the renowned awkwardness when the hug continued for just a little too long. Tony was clearly trying to find a way out of it too, but Abby didn't seem willing to let him go.

"Abby's decorated her lab for Christmas" Tim announced, raising his voice so that it reached across the room, giving Tony the opportunity to disentangle himself.

"I can see that" he responded in neutral tones, as he stepped back into the doorway and McGee watched as Abby stepped back with her face lit up with excitement and expectation, waiting for the moment when the facade of the new Anthony DiNozzo would shatter and they would have their  
Tony with them once more.

The moment that never came.

With a faint smile, Tony turned to McGee, "Gibbs wants you back upstairs Tim"

And then he left.

Leaving Abby Scuito looking like a child who had just spent hours on a gift for her father only to have it pushed aside in favour of the newspaper. When McGee saw the devastated look on her face, he wanted to go after DiNozzo and hit him until he became the old Tony again, the one who had loved to make Abby smile.

But McGee knew that he could punch Tony until he cracked his skull and turned his brain to slush and that it wouldn't do any good. Simply because the only person who could possibly reach Tony had chosen Israel and Mossad over NCIS and her family.

So, instead, Timothy McGee stepped across the room and wrapped his arms around Abby, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Can I help you decorate the tree?" he asked, making sure to lace his every word with childish hopefulness.

Though tears ran down her face, leaving mascara and eyeliner marks, Abby gave him a gentle smile,

"Uh huh, I'll get the decorations"

However, she didn't move from his embrace, in fact, she shifted so that they were facing each other and laced her arms about his neck, burying her face in his shoulder and likely ruining his expensive jacket.

But at that moment McGee really couldn't have cared less.

* * *

"DiNozzo!"

Tony raised his chin as he swept back into the squad room, acknowledging Gibbs' call,

"Yes boss?" he asked quietly, out of habit keeping his voice low in the hours of the early evening, when most of the NCIS employees had turned in for the day and only a few lights remained on at desks. Gibbs didn't bother. Perhaps after years of working long, odd hours, and being flown across continents with the expectation to be wide awake, your body clock adjusted itself to treat any hour as the middle of the day.

Or maybe the coffee that flowed through his veins kept him too caffeinated to realise how loudly he was speaking.

"Where's McGee?" he demanded, standing in the middle of the bullpen and glaring at the television screen, which at that very moment was showing footage of U.S. troops in North Africa.

"He's on his way" Tony assured him, doing his best to placate his angry boss. Ever since he'd stormed in this morning to find they'd been assigned a case, Gibbs had been furious with everyone, snapping at Ducky, head-slapping McGee and yelling at Palmer when he hadn't brought the results to him fast enough. It was the first time Tony had seen Gibbs' actually eager to leave NCIS when there was an unsolved case, it had everyone around them watching him with confusion and concern, with members from other teams approaching Doctor Mallard and suggesting that perhaps Gibbs had come down with an illness.

Tony doubted that there was a disease in the world that would be brave enough to attack Gibbs.

* * *

"Grab your gear" Gibbs announced suddenly, startling Tony from his reverie,

"The moment he gets here, we're leaving"

"Found something Gibbs?"

Both men looked over their shoulders to where Director Vance stood at the entrance to the bullpen, leaning against the cubicle wall, closest to Ziva's desk.

For it was still Ziva's desk. It still had a few photos of her and various NCIS team members pinned to the walls, the computer still contained her files, half in coded Hebrew and the desk still held her stationary and paperwork.

DiNozzo didn't know what he might have done if someone had tried to take Ziva's desk away from him; thankfully he hadn't had to find out.

Gibbs had raised hell when Vance had tried to assign him another team member and had actually threatened to resign from NCIS. Vance had been willing to call his bluff until word had got out that Dr. Mallard, Palmer, Abby, McGee and Tony had all begun filling out their own resignation forms and looking around for other jobs, ready to quit the moment Gibbs' walked from the building. Under pressure from none other than the Secretary of the Navy himself, Vance had been forced to cave, unable to justify losing so many good agents-

But boy had he taken it personally.

These days, DiNozzo found the team taking the worst of the cases, the one's that would likely run the longest and contain the most danger- and if there wasn't a case to be had, they would be down in the firing range or the training rooms with the new interns, instructing and advising.

Gibbs' turned back to the television screen, "Yep" he answered, taking a long sip of his coffee,

Vance seemed to take it as an invitation to walk into the bullpen, "Are you going to share?"

"Nope"

Tony shifted his gaze from his boss to look at Vance and saw the quivering anger felt by the man, with weary knowledge, Tony suspected the team would find themselves being tailed home again tonight. It had started shortly after Israel, when Gibbs' had taken on an under the desk case handed to him by the FBI- which Tony suspected had been done solely to piss of Vance- since then, at random times, members of the team had found themselves being followed or found vans parked outside their homes at night.

Tony himself had been forced to change mobile phones regularly after McGee had been replacing the battery for him and found a tracking device planted behind the SIM card. Abby, in a moment of caffeine induced boredom, had been on the net going over her phone services when she'd found that her lines had been tapped by NCIS. And Ducky had been beside himself when his mother had found a spy camera attached to one of her antique vases and assumed he was making a pornographic film. Apparently he still had trouble with that at home, with Mrs Mallard's short term memory loss having not obliged to remove that incident from her brain yet.

A quick investigation by Fornell had found that Vance had used the excuse of 'suspect activities' to be able to circumvent the basic constitutional and human rights of Gibbs' and his team. Ignoring the years of hard work and unyielding loyalty to both their country and NCIS.

If Fornell had offered them all jobs at the FBI in that moment, they would have been out of the Navy Yard so fast; the security cameras wouldn't even have registered their presence.

As it was, they had to hope that Vance would get sick of the trouble they were putting him and his trackers through, or that Abby's tendency to somehow lace his every beverage- from water to coffee- with salt would cause him to give up.

"You know," Vance put a toothpick in his mouth, chewing on it determinedly,

"I could order you to tell me"

Gibbs' didn't even honour him with a glance, "And after being an NCIS agent for damn near twenty years and an uncover spy for quite a few of them...I could lie my ass off and you wouldn't be able to tell"

Tony bit his tongue to keep from smiling and on his mental scoreboard, awarded another point to Gibbs', but it didn't look like Vance was willing to concede another defeat.

"What if I were to drag you down to interrogation and hook you up to a polygraph?" he threatened which only caused Gibbs' to grin,

"I learnt how to cheat those when I was still a teenager in Stillwater with a buzz cut and a compulsion for truancy"

With a glare in their general direction, Vance snapped his toothpick in half and stormed off to his office, probably to concoct another demeaning task for the team.

Fortunately, Tony didn't have too long to think about that. He heard the chime of the elevator and McGee came barrelling around into the bullpen so fast that he nearly collided head on with Tony and Gibbs'.

"Bout time McGee" Gibbs' snapped, before hurling his empty cup into the bin and grabbing his bag,

"Time to go DiNozzo"

They both cleared the bullpen so fast, neither of them had time to notice the smudge of lipstick on McGee's lips, or the slap mark on his cheek.

* * *

A/N- Vance is evil, because I don't like him. Ever since he sent the team away.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

A/N- Sorry if I made it seem like a six month lapse between Gibbs visit and the next chapter. I Just wanted a holiday scene to empthasize how far Tony has gone down the path of melancholy despair since Ziva's wandering off.

* * *

Gibbs' grabbed Tony's arm as they reached the parking lot and he made to move towards his car,

"Nuh uh" he told him, leading him away, "Vance had a tracking device put in my car this morning"

He heard his senior field agent stifle a groan as he realised what was coming,

"We're playing musical cabs again, aren't we boss?"

Gibbs didn't answer, but ahead of them, sitting just outside the Navy Yard, barely visible in the darkness of the night, sat an idling taxi. Breaking into a jog, both men slid into the back of the vehicle and buckled in as Gibbs gave the man an address.

He kept an eye on the traffic around him, making sure that they weren't being tailed. So far, Vance hadn't been able to keep up with the new system dubbed by Tony as 'musical cabs'. Gibbs had been sure to regularly change companies, never use his own name and always pay with non sequential notes, but sooner or later Vance would find a way to track his team.

And then they would have to come up with a new method.

Knowing that this train of thought only led him to frustration and anger, Gibbs turned to Tony expecting him to start a conversation or make a movie-reference, being one of the few people he knew who would attempt conversation with the former Marine sniper.

But it had been a long time since Tony had made polite chit-chat with him.

At the moment, DiNozzo had his head back against the head rest, his eyes closed, definitely not sleeping, likely he was avoiding the world.

The world that had given him Paula, Jeanne and Ziva only to take them away again.

* * *

There were times now when Leroy Jethro Gibbs could hate Jennifer Sheppard for coming between him and his senior field agent.

Yes, the Tony prior to her days as Director had been more interested in one night stands than proper relationships.

Yes, the old Tony had been more interested in having fun than being serious.

But damn if DiNozzo hadn't been one of the best agents to have ever come through NCIS. He had been passionate about his work, insightful in ways other agents hadn't been and one of the few people with as much integrity as Gibbs himself.

Jenny had taken that away when she'd placed him undercover and forced him to lie to an innocent woman. Paula's death had taken away his mischief and joie de vivre and Ziva...

Gibbs would have bet his eyes that Tony's mobile was in his pocket, set to silent for all calls not from Ziva David's phone. His senior field agent was waiting for a call that would never come, waiting for Ziva to return his life back to him.

Gibbs hated Ziva, not because she had lied to him, or abused his trust, but because she had left one of his few friends cut adrift from the world, unable to see or hear anything that wasn't from her lips.

Which was one of the reasons that Gibbs had granted her request without a second thought.

* * *

Turning down into a deserted street, Gibbs withdrew a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the driver who was happy to be receiving the astronomical tip and thus didn't question the odd actions of his passengers. Climbing from the vehicle, both wincing as softly falling rain greeted them, they looked up and down the street for the next pre-ordered cab. This one was parked before a bar, and from a different company from the last taxi. When they hopped in the driver was interested in conversation, but after being stonewalled for five minutes simply gave up, chalking the matter up to the rudeness of Americans.

There were roughly eight different cab companies in Washington and somehow, though the distance between the Navy Yard and their destination was usually a short trip, Gibbs made sure that they used every last one. Creating maximum confusion for Vance was one of the few pleasures allowed to Gibbs these days and he was determined to squeeze every last bit of fun from the experience.

Tony had remained mostly silent during the cab rides, but when he saw where they were and realised it was their final stop, he looked to Gibbs in confusion.

"What are we doing at the hospital boss?"

Gibbs exhaled as he climbed the steps to the front entrance, not sure if he wanted to tell DiNozzo now, or wait until the situation could be explained properly, even if it held the element of a nasty surprise.

"Boss?"

Tony stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him with a hint of his former stubbornness. In return Gibbs gave him his renowned glare,

"Just because we're not at work doesn't mean I won't slap you DiNozzo, move!"

Truthfully, Gibbs hadn't head-slapped DiNozzo since before Aliyah, but he was sure that before the night was out he and Tony would be returning to their former work relationship.

* * *

Knowing DiNozzo would follow him, from sheer habit if nothing else. Gibbs led the way to the psych ward where Ziva was now being kept, her mental condition being diagnosed as more serious than her physical injuries.

Even though it would be months, if not years, before she recovered maybe half of her previous abilities.

As he had promised. Trent Kort was keeping watch in the corridor, seated in one of the many hospital chairs, nursing a coffee and a gossip magazine. Gibbs suspected that he was pretending to be nothing more than a civilian visitor, giving him the element of surprise in case enemies came a-calling. It was a ruse Gibbs had himself pulled many a time, though with much more success than the CIA agent before him. Certainly with his silver hair and non-descript clothing he blended in much more easily, Kort on the other hand managed to look like a soldier even when he was dressed casually, causing those around him to avoid meeting his gaze.

Kort looked up at the exact moment Tony spotted him and every resentment they held against each other flared up within them.

"What is he doing here?" Tony demanded, looking to Gibbs with the faintest of accusations. Before he could reply in the hope of containing the situation, Kort spoke up.

"What's the matter DiNozzo? Not happy to see me? Surely you're not still grumpy from the last time I worked with NCIS?"

Tony scoffed, ignoring the Gibbs glare. "Fortunately no...If I got grumpy every time you lied, cheated or screwed over an agency...well let's just say there aren't enough hours in the day to handle your treacheries"

Unable to come up with a witty reply, Kort settled for the general curse,

"Bite me, DiNozzo"

Gibbs watched as Tony turned his face away to hide his triumph, his eyes resting on the room before them- and he froze.

Gibbs and Kort watched with interest and concern as Tony stopped breathing. He stepped closer to the window, his nose just touching the glass as he looked in at the unrecognizable body that Kort had brought back to America.

He moved so suddenly that Gibbs barely had time to register the situation before he was throwing open the door and flying into the room. Worried that he might try to interfere with the machines that kept her alive, Kort and Gibbs followed. They needn't have worried; Tony had stopped dead at the side of the bed where the woman's hand rested above the covers. Gently, he reached down and lifted it into his own,

_"Ziva?"_

How Tony had recognised her when even Gibbs and Kort hadn't been sure was a mystery. One that couldn't be contemplated in that moment because Ziva David was stirring. Moving slowly so as to prevent as much pain as possible, like a newborn kitten, Ziva's head turned towards the sound of Tony's voice.

"Tony?" she rasped through her bruised and battered throat, her eyes tearing at the effort she made to open them. Bending down closer to her, allowing his face to be thrown into illumination by the bedside lamp, Tony nodded.

"It's me Zi, I'm here"

Gibbs wasn't sure if the movement of Ziva's mouth was a soundless cry of pain or an attempt to smile.

"I'm not in Africa?"

Tony shook his head, "No...you're in Washington, at Bethesda Hospital with me"

"I'm safe then" she whispered, before turning her eyes away from the light and falling back asleep. Her hand stayed in his however, her fingers curling as much as they were able in the bandaging. Looking around himself for a chair, Tony pulled one over and settled himself down, his very stance daring someone to try to move him. His gaze was so fixated on Ziva's face that Gibbs doubted he even heard him and Kort leave the room.

"Well...wasn't that sweet"

The way Kort spoke the words reminded Gibbs of the time Kelly had tasted Kim Chi, she'd seen him eating the pickled cabbage and had been determined to enjoy it herself, but she had detested the taste and hadn't been able to keep her emotions from her face.

"She's recovering though" Gibbs pointed out as he and Kort made the trip to the nearest coffee machine, Kort nodded churlishly in agreement.

"Yes fortunately. Another week, perhaps less and she may even be able to give a statement"

Gibbs frowned as he removed his paper cup, taking a quick sip of the scalding hot liquid,

"I thought you took out the bastards that did this to her?"

Kort threw him a predatory smile, "I took out that one's responsible for torturing her...but not the ones whose actions _put_ her there in the first place"

It took all of his concentration to swallow his coffee and even then he had to hope the tears in his eyes were the result of the scalding and not from the knowledge that one of his team members had been betrayed.

And if he remembered correctly, there were very few people who would have known where Ziva was going.

Perhaps Vance's obsessive tracking of his team was about to make sense.

* * *

Ziva and Tony all next chapter. With maybe a bit of McGee


	8. Chapter 8

A/N- I own nothing still. However this chapter is dedicated to Ziva's head in the midst of her PTSD. Enjoy

_

* * *

_

_Ziva Sarah David knew she was going to die._

_She was going to die in a dark, hopeless cell in the depths of North Africa._

_And the battered bruised body of Anthony DiNozzo would be the last thing she would ever see._

_The body of her best friend._

_She had told herself that she wouldn't give her torturers the pleasure of seeing her cry, but tears ran down her face as she felt his pooling blood drench and lap against her broken toes._

_It was all her fault._

_He had come here to save her._

_She hadn't seen him enter the cell, she hadn't heard the terrorists find him, and she hadn't felt the rush of bullets as they tore through his body._

_Her first moment of conscious was when she opened her eyes to see Tony lying on the dirty cell floor, his eyes still open and his face registering the surprise. The blood staining his shirt and spreading to every corner of the room._

_She opened her mouth to scream as the ocean of blood rose above her throat...  
_

"Ziva..._Ziva_...wake-up!"

Ziva wrenched open her eyes to find herself dreaming. She was in a room with windows, with a cherry blossom tree outside filled with birds. When she turned her head, pain screamed down her neck, to her stomach where it settled with burning agony. More unreal images before her now, machines...doctors..._Tony_.

Tony's face close to hers, his mouth moving and forming words. She struggled to hear him over the beeping of machines and the heaviness she felt in her ears, taking a deep breath following several shallow ones, she tried to calm down.

"Ziva...it's Tony...you're in Washington...Bethesda Hospital"

The words he was speaking made no sense. She was in North Africa; this was nothing more than a dream.

A desperately wonderful dream.

The erratic beeping of the machines slowed to only the occasional confirmation, she was glad about that, it meant she would be able to hear Tony better.

She tried to move, to sit up, but she was bound down. A faint sense of irritation plagued her, but she was distracted by the sight of Tony settling onto a chair beside her. He was rubbing his face, looking tired and drawn.

The real Tony never looked so pale and ragged. Even when they'd pulled all-nighters, or he'd taken a beating or a bullet...

She wondered why her image of Tony was so ill-cared for.

He ran his hand over his face and threw her a comforting grin,

"How're you feeling?"

His voice...her memory had captured it perfectly. And his laugh!

"Sorry...not the question to be asking"

Basking in the wonder of her dream, she tried laughing with him. Even her chortle was the worst pain she had ever experienced, her Mossad training registered that several ribs were bruised or broken. Perhaps she'd had some organ damage.

It would have been too much to hope for that she could escape her painful reality, even in her dreaming.

She wondered idly what was happening in the waking world that she had been allowed to fall asleep. Perhaps the torturers mistook her for being unconscious?

Perhaps it didn't matter. Not with Tony here.

"They've doped you full of morphine..." he whispered gently, scooping her hand into his own and brushing his thumb against her palm,

"You should be in less pain soon"

The moment those words left his lips, the feeling of heavy blissfulness ran through Ziva's body. She moaned with appreciation, trying to match Tony's smile...again too much bandaging from her torn lips made it impossible.

"Trent Kort is outside keeping the bad guys out" he told her, making a familiar face that showed his disgust and was classic Tony,

"And Gibbs will be around after work"

Gibbs? Kort?

Ziva had no idea why those two men would be featuring in her dream; she certainly didn't want them there. For that matter, she didn't want the male nurse who was tapping her arm repeatedly, hitting the needle in her vein; she tried to shift her arm minutely away from the man. She didn't see his face, but she could imagine it to be cruel because he grabbed her arm and yanked it back over to him. Her whole body quivered with the pain, and she struggled to breathe.

Above her, Tony was locked in a fierce argument with the nurse, releasing her hand he stood and moved from her line of sight. She tried to follow him with her eyes but exhaustion overtook her.

Weeping with frustration and despair to have lost her semi-pleasant dream so soon, Ziva relented to the encroaching darkness and woke up.  
_  
_"Ms John? Ms Sarah John?..."

Ziva's dream started with an unfamiliar face shining a light in her eyes, she shifted her gaze away from the blaze and looked around her imaginary world once more.

Ziva David did not often remember her dreams, unable to recall the places or happenings when she awoke, so it was strange that she could recall that this dream was almost exactly like her last one.

She lay in a hospital room and Tony was with her.

Only one of those facts mattered.

If she couldn't have Anthony DiNozzo with her in life, she would gladly dream of him every night until she was granted her new wish to die.

Except this Tony wasn't as true to the original.

He was standing by her bedside, struggling out of a long-sleeved top and undershirt. His longer hair becoming ridiculously messed by the feat. Gibbs appeared into her vision, handing him a plastic bag.

Slipping from his top, Tony stood bare-chested before her and, though Ziva did admire the view...

The real Tony DiNozzo wasn't so...fit.

She remembered that Tony had been a basketball player, but that had required speed and toned legs rather than a muscled chest. Her Tony was hardly the next heavy-weight champion but he had certainly done some shaping in his stomach. The faintest outline of muscles being the reward.

_Her_ Tony- she liked the sound of that.

She'd never used that possessive pronoun with Michael.

Because she'd never truly believed that Michael was completely hers. There'd always been the slightest of reservation when they'd been together and his drinking had made her uncomfortable, he'd always needed at least two drinks before going to bed with her.

She should have realised earlier that something wasn't quite right.

She should have realised that he wasn't with her purely out of desire, that he had another agenda.

Had she discovered this sooner, perhaps she wouldn't have lost everything she had held dear.

Perhaps she wouldn't only have the dream of Tony to sustain her through the horror of his death.

* * *

When Ziva opened her eyes the first thing she noticed was one of the torturers bent before her, leering as he raised his hand to slap her. Her nerves had been so badly damaged that she couldn't even register the pain. His whole frame filled her vision and she wondered if the blood covering his jumper was her own.

Then he stepped away and Ziva's breathing quickened.

The blood wasn't her own...

It was Tony's.

He was stretched out on a table before her, tied down with wire and electrical cord. His clothes were torn, and bruises covered most of his upper torso.

Around the table stood several men, all having tortured her at some point. Some stood with knives, others with several different implements of torture.

They were all staring at Tony like carrion birds, knowing their prey would not be able to fight.

Horrified, Ziva wrestled against the rope and wire that tied her down to the chair, using the strength she had previously thought lost.

It was no good though...

It was as if she was paralysed...

Unable to move as the monsters descended on Tony, his silent screams piercing her ears, deafening her.

Tears ran down her face as the monsters cleared the room, leaving her alone with the opened, bleeding corpse of her best friend. The sheer whiteness of  
his bones blinding her.

* * *

Gibbs was watching her; she blinked and found his gaze upon her- a mixture of concern and something indecipherable- similar to the look he gave  
suspects in interrogation.

Figures that even in her dreams Gibbs would be able to terrify her.

He edged around Tony as he buttoned up his shirt and though she couldn't see it, felt his hand brush the bandages wrapped tight against her head,

"Get well soon David" he whispered, with just a touch of the paternalistic tone he usually reserved for Abby and DiNozzo alone.

He stalked out, keeping to the character of the real Gibbs. Leaving her and Tony alone in the room.

This was odd in itself, last time her mind had added specific details, like staff and morphine injections. The machines were still beeping around her, but without the frequent panic they had shown last time. Tony was digging around in the plastic bag, removing an apple and a bottle of water. He  
threw Ziva a grin, holding up the red apple for her inspection,

"This must be my punishment for going MIA during a case"

Setting the water on her bedside table, Tony resumed his seat beside her, replacing his hand back in hers when she turned it palm up for him.

Though her fingers were still wrapped up in gauze, Ziva willed herself to bend her index finger as much as possible, trying to ignore the

"M...I...A?" she croaked, her throat still partially swollen. Tony apparently didn't like the idea of her trying to talk and further press herself. She only wished that she was able to forget the pain of her reality and restore herself to full health in her dreams.

"Nobody knows I'm here" he told her quietly, gazing at her with the intensity characteristic of the true Anthony DiNozzo.

"Well except for Gibbs and Kort...but neither of them are likely to start shouting the information from the rooftops anytime soon" he shrugged and took a bite out of the apple.

"You're safe Ziva and I'm not going anywhere"

Ziva managed to curl her lip with self-depreciating amusement at the comment made by her created character. Of course Anthony DiNozzo wasn't leaving her, how could he? She dreamt of him during her sleeping times and suffered the agony of seeing his corpse while she was awake.

Why did her heart feel the need to torture her like this?

And why did the thought of not seeing Tony in her dreams torture her even more?

Ziva David was sure she knew the answer, and it was one she didn't like.

She removed her hand from Tony's sliding it back against her body, on the pristine white sheets;

"I..._hate_...you" she choked, closing her eyes.

She sensed rather than felt him tense, she heard the sound of him digging his nails into the apple,

"_What?!_"

She set her mouth into a tight line, "Leave"

And, just like that, when she opened her eyes he was gone.

And Ziva David knew that when she woke up, she would be free to die.

Maybe then she would see the real Tony DiNozzo again.

* * *

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

A/N- No Ziva or Tony in this chapter sorry. Just highlighting the evil of Director Vance and the reason behind his hatred of Gibbs.

* * *

From his office in NCIS, Vance was able to watch the CCTV footage of McGee, Mallard and Palmer at the local Vietnamese restaurant. It was across the road from the Navy Yard and the majority of the tables were on the street.

Which made it all the more easier for Vance to watch their every move.

As per usual with the Gibbs gang, as he thought of those whose loyalty to him could be questioned, they had lunch together at least twice a week. The choice of restaurant was often dependent on who was paying.

DiNozzo or Abby meant the exclusive but reasonably priced Italian restaurant three streets east from the Navy Yard.

Gibbs chose the Japanese sushi bar two streets north and next door to his caffeine dealer.

Mallard or Palmer frequented the Old English restaurant four blocks away, usually taking Mallard's Morgan.

This left McGee and his Vietnamese restaurant, across from the Navy Yard.

Recently Vance had preferred when it was McGee's turn to pay, due to the loud noise inside the restaurant, they would sit outside on the street,

Under the CCTV camera.

He reclined in his leather chair, twisting a toothpick between his fingers as he watched the every movement of the unwitting agents on the platinum television.  
_  
His_ platinum television.

In _his_ office.

But not his agency.

* * *

Leon Vance remembered the first time he had met Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

He had been in England, off the coast of Dover, stationed in a lacklustre hotel watching the pouring rain.

_He was a junior field agent and this was his first case, he and his senior field partner Special Agent Crane had been sent to England to find and escort home two, possibly three NCIS agents.  
__  
Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Doctor Mallard and Special Agent Jennifer Sheppard._

_Vance sat on the double bed, looking down at the three files spread before him. The top file showed a middle-aged, kind faced man with glasses. An Oxford graduate Scot who'd been with NCIS for nigh on twenty years. Not the kind of man who made a habit of pushing French Policemen off cliffs into lakes sixty feet below._

_If Vance had been the one to guess who had been the true culprit he would have guessed Leroy Jethro Gibbs, a former marine- like himself- but a decorated sniper who had seen more action than most. He'd retired from the Marines suddenly to become an NCIS agent and, from the several reports attached to his file was one of the best, if not the best behaved._

_He had been the only other American and NCIS agent present at the time the crime had been committed. Tensions had already been sky high when the dead American Marine had summoned NCIS to Calais; they'd rocketed into space after the 'unwarranted attack'. Now Gibbs and Mallard were being hunted through every city in France and every adjoining country was being asked to surrender the two agents immediately if they were found trying to contact the American Embassies._

_Crane and Vance had been sent to Dover in the hopes they would be able to establish contact with the agents, who- were they able to reach Dover- would be flown straight to Washington._

_It was a diplomatic relations nightmare._

_Crane was pacing anxiously, the phone pressed to his ear. He'd been trying to contact Special Agent Jennifer Sheppard for several hours now, Vance had asked him why and Crane had simply rolled his eyes._

_"If Gibbs is in trouble, you can bet your arse that Sheppard will be there to pull him out"_

_Vance had wanted to question him further but at that very moment there was a knock on their door._

_Both reflexively reached for their guns before they heard a Scottish accent._

"Let us in"

_Vance didn't recognise the voices, but Crane did. Stomping across the room and threw open the door,_

_"Thank God! How the hell did you two get out of France?"_

_Three people tumbled into the room, looking drenched and exhausted._

_"Ask Jen here" a deep, warm voice chuckled, "She's the one that smuggled us out"_

_"Oh please Jethro...a fishing boat does not a smuggling outfit make"_

_Vance was still sitting on the bed, and he was glad because the next moment his legs felt weak._

_A stunningly beautiful woman had just strutted into the room, sweeping a beret from her head, a river of fiery red hair toppled down her back. Her green eyes settled on Vance and she gave him a quick smile,_

_"Hello...been waiting long?"_

_Her voice was husky, she sounded intelligent and confident, as opposed to the usual bimbo's Vance preferred one-night stands with._

_"Long enough to worry Gibbs and Mallard had been guillotined" he quipped and she laughed,_

_"Ducky perhaps...Gibbs is so tough, his neck would likely shatter the metal"_

_"Gee thanks Jen"_

_Vance looked to the voice, taking his eyes off Jennifer Sheppard. A man emerged, his greying hair plastered to his head as he shrugged from a wet jacket. His face was handsome if not memorable, he was above average height but not much taller than Vance, his eyes were another story though..._

_They were a deep, piercing blue- when they fixed on Vance he felt like a teenage boy, sitting before the school principal and the police constable._

_"Marine" he guessed reaching out to take Vance's hand, "I know one when I see one"_

_Vance nodded, "I served in Iraq for a few years"_

_"Me too"_

_That said, he pulled up a chair and they all unwittingly prepared to listen to whatever he had to say, Jennifer settling beside Vance. Truthfully, later he couldn't recall a word of what was said, what he was ordered to do or what he may have been told. Every bit of his attention was focused on the beauty sitting next to him._

_They were both thirty-one years old._

_They were both NCIS agents._

_From what he gathered from her dossier, they both loved America._

_That was more than he'd had in common with the majority of the women he'd been with._

_He knew he was being presumptuous, but the moment he'd seen her he'd wanted her._

_Worried that French agents might cross the pond to Dover, it was suggested that Mallard- or Ducky as Gibbs and Sheppard called him- spend the night in the hotel room with the rest of the agents, even though he'd begged for some privacy._

_"I've spent the last week with a caffeine-deprived Gibbs!"_

_That had been his strongest argument._

_The only concession was that he got the bed. The agents taking two watch shifts throughout the night._

_Vance was scheduled for the two am shift, he'd curled up on the couch, settling the alarm on his watch for one thirty. When he woke into the freezing darkness, reluctantly opening his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that they were two agents short._

_Gibbs and Jennifer._

_Getting to his feet and stretching his frozen limbs, Vance slipped his gun back into its holster and crept to the door, pressing his ear against the wood._

_It creaked and he realised it was open._

_Pushing his face against the wall, Vance was able to look out into the night._

_Leaning against the railing, the two agents were so tightly entwined that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began._

_When they broke apart, Vance could see Jennifer shaking,_

_"Jethro..." she murmured her voice thick, gripping his shoulders and burying her face in his neck._

_"Jethro...j'adore...ma amour"_

_"Hush Jen" Gibbs hissed unfeelingly, cupping her head in his palm. "It's cold, let's go inside"_

_Later that day, when the agents were boarding the plane to Washington, Vance gave one last sweep of the hangar and his eyes fell upon Special Agent Sheppard as she came up the steps behind him.  
Her face was drawn and her eyes were rimmed red._

_He hated them both in that moment._

* * *

When Leon Vance had been appointed Director of NCIS, following the death of Director Sheppard, the Secretary of the Navy had taken him aside. Vance had always believed the old bastard was slightly racist, and the patronising tone he took with Vance didn't disprove the theory.

He had spoken with a kind tone, congratulating him on the promotion, asking after the wife and kids- then he had got down to business.

Gibbs. The Secretary of the Navy gave him a sympathetic grimace, like an embarrassed family member. He then launched into what Vance suspected was a long practised speech, explaining the brilliance of the detective- but even the most brilliant of men had faults.

Special Agent Leon Vance was given a promotion.

He was given an office.

But he was warned that NCIS Washington was only his agency in name.

It might be his signature on the documents...but at the end of the day Gibbs word was accepted law.

Whilst there were people in the agency that were loyal to him alone, the number who owed Gibbs favours or their lives ran much higher.

Numbers weren't important though.

The only agents Vance worried about were the ones he was surveying now.

Out of the five agents whose sole loyalty was to Gibbs...

One was AWOL.

Anthony DiNozzo had been absent for three days now. Years in Gibbs time, his team was infamous for considering sick leave to be a bowl of chicken noodle soup, picked up on the way back to work.

What was weirder was that Gibbs was stone-walling any attempts to locate his missing agent and the rest of the team had become tight-lipped regarding the matter, going about their business as though nothing was wrong.

Vance just knew DiNozzo was up to something, possibly- in fact almost certainly- working on behalf of Gibbs. Maybe a coup or a hostile takeover, maybe they were preparing a case against him for the Secretary of the Navy or the CIA.

Gibbs and all those who worked for Gibbs couldn't be trusted a homespun inch.

That was why Vance had sided so strongly with Mossad and Eli David.

Because as long as he supported them, they would support him.

* * *

A quiet knock on the door startled him. He called out for the person to enter, making sure to switch off the television first. A young blonde woman shuffled in, smiling shyly.

Francine was new to NCIS, he'd sent Cynthia off to the Pentagon after he'd become Director. She'd been too loyal to Jennifer Sheppard.

"Sir...Bethesda hospital returning your call?"

He nodded brusquely; he'd rung the short list of public places Anthony DiNozzo might be, from Bethesda Hospital to the Pentagon, trying to find the agent before the disappearance bit him in the ass. He'd learnt the trick after the second time Mike Franks had flown in from Mexico and joined a case without his knowledge or permission.

Signing for her to leave, he picked up the phone and pressed the flashing button.

"Director Vance here...who am I speaking to?"

"Nurse Halleigh Smith" a young feminine voice replied, "You called before in relation to an agent of yours?"

"Yes" he laced as much kindness and warmth into his voice as possible, though his face remained expressionless. "I was wondering if you could tell me if he is in Bethesda...I'm concerned for his welfare"

"Oh he's not here as a patient" she assured him quickly, with a high pitched giggle that told Vance more than her words ever would. "He's visiting a female patient"

Cold dread settled over Vance. He felt light-headed and began swaying.

"A female patient? May I ask her name?"

"Oh..." there was a pause at the other end of the line, "Well...I'm not _sure_ I should tell you"

He could just imagine the pout on the bimbo's face- idiots, every last one of her sex.

"I'm a federal agent" he reassured her, dropping his voice to a low seductive tone, the one his wife told him reminded her of Paul Robeson.

"Oh, well, that's like different"

She didn't even ask for proof.

"He's visiting a woman named Sarah John, she's like really beat up and suffering PTSD"

She might have told him more but Vance hung up before she had the opportunity, marvelling at his luck. His experience of nurses was tight-lipped intelligent women who would demand a warrant before they so much as breathed at someone who wasn't the patient's primary next of kin.

Sarah John.

Vance mused over the name, assuming it was an alias. Sarah John.

Sarah was a Hebrew name, and John was as common a last name as Smith or David...

David!

A severely hurt woman suffering PTSD. A first name with Hebrew origins and a second name as common as David.

If Ziva had survived North Africa and was in Washington...

Vance couldn't even begin to imagine the ramifications the situation would have on him, he just knew he had to get to Bethesda right away.

He made sure to pack his gun- remembering the old saying,

'Dead men don't bite'

* * *

A/N- Okay he's a paranoid maniac, best reason to explain his devotion to Mossad above his own people. And for those regarding my terrible french

_j'adore- I adore_

_Ma amour- My love (fem)_


	10. Chapter 10

A/N- Vance's spree of evil. Thanks for all the lovely reviews

* * *

Vance stood in the shadow of a tall pine tree, partially hidden from view. Of course, considering it was a sunny mid-afternoon, it wouldn't mean anything if anyone was looking for anyone suspicious.

Thankfully, the man bounding down the hospital stairs wasn't checking the area for unusual activity.

In fact, Vance suspected that Hezbollah could storm the parking lot and Anthony DiNozzo wouldn't notice a thing.

From a distance, he could see that DiNozzo's face was flushed and he was rubbing his eyes, while his shoulder shook.  
Anthony DiNozzo was _crying_.

Perhaps luck was with him and Ziva David had died, considering the length of time she had been held in Somalia, it was a miracle in itself she had survived this long.

But he could not leave it up to guesswork; it would be foolish beyond belief, until he had the lifeless body in his hands...  
Ziva David would be a threat.

* * *

He waited until DiNozzo had crossed the street, disappearing into the busy, populated area, then he trotted into Bethesda Hospital. Assuming that Ziva would still be under the alias, he headed over to the large nurse at the desk and smiled politely at her,

"James Whitemore for Sarah John please"

She narrowed her eyes mistrustingly at him, "Hang on a moment sir,"

Nurse Washington, as he read from her nametag, looked up the information on the computer,

"Psych...room five, but only two visitors at one time"

"I'm not holding a naval conference in there" he shot back, irritated. This woman was only a nurse for crying out loud!

"Yes...but you and the other men make three visitors"

Three visitors!

Gibbs? No, the last trace had placed Gibbs down in his basement, building another boat. It wouldn't be another member of his team...

Fornell perhaps? But then the FBI would be holding Ziva on their own turf, to have full access to her once she was able to talk.

Franks? Quite possibly. Gibbs trusted the man with his life, it would make sense that DiNozzo would entrust him with the secret as well.

He realised that he'd been standing at the nursing station while he'd been trying to determine the situation before he walked into it, and the nurse was watching him suspiciously.

Not bothering to thank her, Vance turned on his heel and headed up to the psych ward, his shoulder nearly knocking an intern off his feet as he bumped past him.

* * *

Vance moved quickly but as silently as possible, staring at the face of everyone who past him, looking for someone he'd hopefully recognise he walked straight past the room and didn't realise until he looked up and saw he was in the high twenties.

Backtracking, he was almost reached the room when he saw a familiar, bald headed giant.

Trent Kort.

Of course, Mossad was of interest to the CIA, especially if she could provide the agency with information.

Or rather, if she could provide Kort with information.

He was talking on his cell-phone, arguing quickly in fluent Arabic. Smirking, Vance saw a fat couple cowering against the wall opposite him.

Kort might be Caucasian but damn if even a hint of the Middle East didn't have hicks diving under tables, he remembered the issues Ziva David had brought to NCIS when her Israeli accent caused people to mistake her for the enemy. Once, working a case, in the Deep South, she had been jumped by a gang of youths looking for a 'terrorist', every last one of them had ended up with a broken bone and a court date.

Suddenly, Kort swore and aimed a kick at the wall, not making contact but clearly coming to a decision. He rapped on the closed door to room five, not bothering to open it,

"DiNozzo...I have a prior arrangement I now have to attend...I'll be back in two hours. Call Gibbs"

* * *

Ducking into an empty room, Vance was able to hide as Kort stormed past him, swearing under his breath. Vance counted to sixty before emerging again...

To find the fat couple staring at him, both wearing gold crucifixes and WWJD bracelets, amongst other religious insignia, smiling politely at them, Vance crossed the hall and tried the door to Ziva's room.

It opened easily under his hand and he peeked in,

Ziva David lay on her bed, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, the machines surrounding her beeping forlornly. Her body bearing obvious marks of torture, her face was still heavily bruised and Vance found himself wondering how on earth he was going to carry her out of the hospital, half-naked without attracting attention. This was the flaw in his plan.

"Excuse me"

Closing the door behind him, Vance turned to find the fat man standing before him, an indignant look on his face making him resemble a startled pig.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you a policeman?"

For a moment Vance was flattered, thinking this man had seen his face on the television or read about him in one of the many patriotic magazines. Then he remembered that his hand was resting on his holster, displaying his SIG to the world. He wondered if he was about to be caught up in another debate on the Iraq war.

"Yes" he grunted, "I am"

"Well..." the man spluttered wordlessly for a moment before coming out with,

"What are you going to do about that suspicious guy who just stormed out?"

"He was speaking in one of those _Middle Eastern_ languages" the woman supplied helpfully. It didn't matter what she said though, Vance had just had a brilliant idea, it was foolhardy,but it might just work.

"I'm a federal agent" he announced, seeing himself rise in esteem in their eyes. Pulling out his identification he gave it the customary flick, making sure to rest on the badge rather than his licence.

"I'm looking into reports that we have a supporter of Alkaida in Washington, the woman in that room..." he paused to jerk his head in Ziva's direction,

"Matches the profile of one of our suspects"

* * *

And that was all he needed to say. Mr and Mrs Wiltshire, as he discovered their names to be, were visiting their son who had been injured in a bar fight last night; they had also lost a cousin in the Iraq war to a roadside bomber. They were all too happy to help him by pulling the fire alarm while he unplugged Ziva David from the machines and carried her out the side entrance.

He knew that Paula Cassidy's team had been forced to kidnap a suspect from a hospital before- the complaints and legal issues had still been going on when he'd become Director, so he understood why it was almost too easy for him to carry her across the parking lot, with her wearing little more than a hospital gown and his jacket.

She cried out as he slipped her into the backseat of his car, the movement clearly jarring her. It didn't matter though, without the machines hopefully she would die.

"Director?!"

For a moment Vance looked down at Ziva bewildered, wondering if she had woken up and how much of a threat she would be conscious.  
But the voice was different from hers, less accented, more timbre.  
The hint of his cultured Long Island upbringing still in his words.

Grabbing his keys, Vance scrambled to the driver's side of the car, flinging himself into the seat and jamming the key into the ignition. Throwing his foot down on the gas, the car shot forward, tires screeching in protest and horns blaring at him as he sped from the parking lot. Adrenalin pumping through his system, he looked into the rear-view mirror to see Anthony DiNozzo pounding the pavement, chasing after the car, but losing ground every second.

Damn it all to hell. Leon Vance had no idea how he was going to get out of this one.

* * *

A/N- His crazy actions will make sense later


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

Tony knew that he was in shock; Vance had managed to swipe him when he was making his escape, though he doubted it had been deliberate.

Vance could have driven over an elephant and not noticed. He didn't remember how he made it to the Navy yard; he only knew that one minute he was in the Bethesda hospital parking lot and the next he was running through the garage, seeing the doors open and ignoring the security guard call him back by name.

In front of him, the elevator doors opened and Palmer stepped out with a pleasant little smile on his face, it fell right off when he saw the situation before him,

"Tony" he called as he was nearly knocked back into the elevator, "You're bleeding..._lots_!"

"Where's Gibbs?" Tony demanded, yanking Palmer by the collar and dragging him back into the elevator with him. Palmer stuttered uselessly, clearly more interested in the blood Tony felt trickling down his face. Pressing the button furiously, in the hopes it would make the elevator go faster, Tony nearly jammed the doors when he tried to force them open. Releasing Palmer as he sprinted across the third floor of the NCIS building, he nearly collided head on with McGee,

"Ton- you're _bleeding_!"

Tony ignored McGee, looking around desperately for Gibbs, thankfully he saw Palmer hurrying away, presumably to find their leader.

"McGee" Tony tried to fix his eyes on his partner, but his vision was swimming, blinking furiously he shook off McGee's attempts to sit him down.

"Tim...I need you to track Vance's cell, or his car. Better yet do both...and tell me where the _hell_ Gibbs is!"

He would have told him to do more, but the throbbing of his head became too much and he surrendered to the darkness.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he was aware of, was a stinging sensation- and coffee.

He could taste coffee in his mouth and he didn't drink coffee.

Nor did he wear it on his face or his shirt.

"DiNozzo..._hey_!"

He focused on the man before him, Gibbs. He was speaking, pinching his cheeks, trying to remind him about something-

"Vance took Ziva" Tony remembered, jumping to his feet only to sway and nearly topple back to the floor again, Gibbs caught him by the arms, trying to steady him,

"_Everything_ Anthony" he prompted and Tony struggled to stay conscious,

"I saw Vance in the parking lot, carrying Ziva, he threw her into the back of his car and sped off. Boss, Vance has Ziva!"

"_Ziva_?!" McGee chirped, obviously trying to figure out what was happening. They both ignored him.

"Dammit!" Gibbs settled Tony back onto his desk chair, "McGee- find Vance. I don't care if you have to hack every goddamn computer in the country to do it...Palmer- get Ducky up here, tell him DiNozzo is hurt bad and then tell Abby to go to Vance's office and treat it as a crime scene, bag and tag everything"

"Do you have the authority to do that Jethro?"

Gibbs looked up from the chaotic scene around him to find Special Agent Rosario, a devotee of Vance, glaring at him. In fact, now that he could look past the heavily bleeding and barely conscious DiNozzo, he could see that his agent's entrance had caused a stir. Most of the floor was gathered around, watching the scene, curiosity and concern in their gazes.

Well he sure would need all the help he could get.

* * *

He stormed up to Rosario and met him eye for eye,

"Leon Vance has just concussed one of my team and may have seriously endangered the life of another, who he took right out of a hospital bed and is dragging off to God knows where! Do you want to stand here and argue authority with me Rosario?...Cause I will go up to MTAC this very second and tell Ol' Hank, that's Secretary of the Navy to you, that you and Vance were tracking me without his knowledge or permission and have you fired and arrested!"

Rosario might have been loyal to Vance, but he was also a single father with two small mouths to feed, lowering his eyes, he scuttled back to his desk just as Ducky swept into the bullpen.

"Good God Antony!" he cried, "Palmer was not exaggerating"

Settling himself on Tony's desk, he went about trying to stop the various cuts and bruises on the agent's body, and to stop him from slumping to the floor in a dead faint.

Gibbs paced, trying to think of where Vance would have taken Ziva, and how the hell he had known she was in the country. Kort wouldn't have told him, if NCIS had taken control of Ziva, he would never get the chance to interrogate her. Tony sure as well wouldn't have told him, if for no other reason than he didn't like Vance and the secrecy bullshit of his regime at NCIS. Gibbs hadn't told anyone and had been careful not to be tailed either to or from Bethesda.

"Boss...?" McGee called out to him; in the nervous tone which in his team, usually meant that they weren't sure if they'd done what was asked of them.

"Have you found Vance yet, McGee?"

"No...I-"

"Then keep looking!" he shouted, wanting to head-slap somebody, but knowing that to hit DiNozzo now would likely be to kill him.

"I found Ziva"

All activity halted and a dozen eyes turned to look at McGee, who had half-risen from his chair,

"She...uh...she was issued a visitors badge at the bureau about five minutes ago"

For a moment Gibbs was confused, but then he no longer had the time to ponder that information. Tony had fought off Ducky's administrations and was barrelling towards the elevator, followed closely by McGee and himself,

"You're in charge, Duck" Gibbs shouted over his shoulder,

"Give her my love Jethro" he replied, still holding the bloody bandages.

"And Tony, for God's sake man...find an ice-pack!"

* * *

Going out through the front entrance, Gibbs dug through the reception's staffroom fridge and found a small ice-pack. He tossed it to McGee who swiped a large roll of papertowel and began wrapping it up as they hurried to the long line of Government Issue cars.

When Tony placed it to the back of his head, Gibbs heard him wince and could only imagine the migraine he'd be facing in the morning. He made sure that Tony was safely buckled up before speeding off into the night.

"So..." McGee began, trying to break the silence as Gibbs broke the road laws,

"Ziva's been back in the States how long?"

"A couple of days...weeks perhaps" Gibbs announced, watching his expression in the rear-view mirror, seeing it go from shock to outrage,

"Why the hell wasn't I _told_? Or Abby...or Ducky?"

"Relax McGab" Tony gasped, still pressing the pack firmly to his head,

"Boss and I haven't known much longer than you have"

"So, is she working with the FBI now?"

Gibbs didn't answer, he concentrated on running the second of the five sets of traffic lights leading up to the Bureau. Tony didn't answer either and perhaps, because of the troubling silence, McGee decided not to ask again.

* * *

A/N- What's Ziva doing at the FBI?


	12. Chapter 12

A/N- I still don't have ownership of any of the characters.  


* * *

_Ziva Sarah David knew she was going to die._

_She was going to die in a dark, hopeless cell in the depths of North Africa._

_And the triumphant, grinning face of Director Vance, as he pushed her over the edge would be the last thing she would-_

What?!

Ziva felt a harsh force against her back and was winded. She opened her mouth to catch her breath, only to find water rushing into her lungs.

Ice-cold, dirty water.

Panicking she thrashed out with her arms and her legs, grateful for her training and her fitness as she fought against the rushing water and broke the surface. Coughing up the water, the cold air froze her lungs and made her dizzy.

She wasn't in North Africa anymore.

The water was in her ears, but she managed to force her eyes open to see the world about her.

She was in a river that ran through the middle of a populated area, possibly the Thames or Seine.

Judging from the buildings around her, she was either in the tourist heavy districts or...

"Hey...hey miss!" A man with an American accent called out to her "Swim over here"

Her legs were tiring, it took more effort than she wanted to not be moved along with the current. Turning her head she saw the man beckoning frantically to her, and the large crowd of people gathering to watch.

She didn't remember how she had ended up in the freezing water but she knew she'd be safest with the crowd. Taking a deep breath, she ducked under the water again, hoping to be covered by the silt and invisible to anyone watching her from land, lest they try to shower her with bullets.

Reaching out with her hands, she found the stone wall and clawed up to the edge, hands grabbing her and pulling her above surface and dragging her onto the pavement. Her throat was still swollen from the bruising and her head ached, she choked on the water and her stomach heaved as it tried to expel it from her system.

"Somebody call nine-one-one!"

Even though she had nearly drowned, even though every part of her ached and even though she had no idea when she had left North Africa. That was the most beautiful sentence she could have heard,

Nine-one-one. The emergency number in the United States of America.

She was in America!

* * *

"Which city am I in?"

She didn't direct that question at anyone in particular but several answered, gabbling at once until she was able to determine one thing,

She was in Washington D.C.- the capital of America.

The home of the CIA, the FBI...

NCIS.

She was shivering- whether from the cold or the excitement, she couldn't be sure, but something dry and soft was being wrapped around her,

"Ma'm can you stand?"

Wearily she lifted her head to find herself looking at a young cop. He was pale with adrenalin and his teeth were chattering almost as much as hers,

"I suppose I shall have to try, no?"

Slowly, leaning heavily on the young man, Ziva struggled to her feet, her legs tingling as the blood rushed back into them. Clearly pleased with that  
result, the man supported her with his arms and put his face close enough to hers that she could smell the sugar of his last meal,

"Can you tell me your name?" he asked loudly and she flinched,

"Ziva David...I'm a federal agent at..."

The words died in her throat, having been a habitual spiel she had learnt after three years in this country. Except she wasn't an NCIS agent anymore, she wasn't even sure if she was in the country legally or not. She closed her eyes and feigned exhaustion, to the worried cries of the  
crowd around her, several fingers pressed into her neck and her wrists to make sure she was still alive. She pretended not to feel them as she tried to decide her next move.

Even with the adrenalin rush, there wasn't a snow's chance in hell of her outrunning the cop; she reckoned her Mossad training alone had got her out of the river. She had no identification on her, but if she went to the hospital or police station they could pull up her file.

And find out that she was...what? A Mossad agent in the country illegally, formerly NCIS but, even if they knew what that was; there was no guarantee that Vance would be the agent to come get her. It might be Gibbs, Gibbs who she had tried to make choose between her and Tony, Gibbs who she had lied to again and again so that Mossad could hold all the cards in the game.

It hurt, but she couldn't trust completely in NCIS.

* * *

The FBI or the CIA on the other hand, they were so desperate for any information they could get in the War on Terror that they would roll out the welcome mat for her.

The FBI particularly would find her knowledge regarding Somalia useful.

"Can you take me to the FBI?" she asked the policeman and he looked at her nervously, she gave him the address as he helped her into the back of his police car.

"Miss, you look pretty beat up...shouldn't I take you to the hospital?"  
_  
She was in a room with windows, with a cherry blossom tree outside filled with birds.  
More unreal images before her now, machines...doctors..._

"I've already been" she announced, wondering if that was true, she looked to her wrist and found a medical bracelet attached. "Please...just take me to the Bureau, they'll take care of me"

Or lock her in a dark cell and throw away the key. One crisis at a time though,

"I'll need to take your statement though..." he continued, but she interrupted him,

"Once you get me to the FBI!"

She knew she sounded harsh, but her own fears were playing on her. What if she was in the country illegally? What if the terrorist cell was looking for her?

What if Gibbs was still angry with her?

* * *

The car had stopped moving and she glanced at the window to see them by a security gate,  
"Who are you here to see?"

A routine enough question and before the sentence was complete several names appeared in Ziva's mind, connections from Tel Aviv, contacts she had formed while in America, but at the moment she wasn't a federal agent. She was tired, scared and wanted a familiar face to tell her it was alright.

"Fornell" she begged, "I'd like to see Fornell please"

* * *

A/N- Read and Review


	13. Chapter 13

A/N- Small reunion here.

* * *

"Good God in Heaven!"

Tobias Fornell had been curious when he had received the call telling him that Ziva David was down at reception asking for him. As far as he had been aware, or cared, Ziva David had been in Israel, in Tel Aviv with Mossad ever since DiNozzo had emptied a round into her boyfriend.

He wondered if that little act wasn't the reason Ziva was at the FBI instead of the NCIS.

But when he descended the stairs and entered the warmly lit reception to find an unrecognizable woman, swathed in a hospital gown, a beige Armani jacket and a picnic blanket, he knew something was quite seriously wrong.

Ziva, or at least the woman using her name, looked up at his cry and tried to smile,

"I nearly went to him today"

Knocking on death's door and still making jokes, that announced her as NCIS more than DNA and official records ever could.

"Ziva-' Tobias didn't know where to begin, he saw the cuts along her arms, the large chunks of hair missing from her scalp and the various healing but hideous bruises along her body, then saw the young policeman standing next to her.

"Was she in this state when you found her?" he asked him, keeping the accusation out of his voice, doubting that the boy would be able to throw Ziva over even on her worst day.

"Well...I...uh"

"He pulled me from the river" she interrupted, her accent heavy, betraying her exhaustion,

"What were you doing in the river?"

"I don't even remember leaving Somalia" she stopped for a moment and seemed to be struggling to speak, perhaps recall a memory.

"I may need some medical attention"

"After your statement" the policeman reminded her. And Fornell was sure that both she and he were resisting the urge to hit him.

"Right" he announced, taking control of the situation. Noting that people were casting surreptitious glances at the odd scene they made,  
"Ziva, my office...you can give a statement and fill me in at the same time"

"I don't remember leaving Somalia" she reminded him, getting to her feet with a groan and following him with a slow limping gait,

"Well then you can tell me what happened in Somalia"

He wondered if that information would be enough to stop Gibbs tearing him a new one once he found out Fornell had discovered a wounded Ziva and not called him immediately.

* * *

Seeing Ziva seated securely in his office, he called for Agent Sacks to find a medic and to hold all his calls.

Taking a deep breath he closed his door and sat down at his desk,

"Well...I suggest you start from the beginning" Fornell prompted, glad that Diane had Emily tonight, so she wouldn't have to worry where her daddy was.

"After Tony shot...Mi-Rivkin...I took his body back to Israel. Tony, Vance and Gibbs came with me, to question my father about some of the actions committed by Mossad and, because Tony had shot dead an officer. Unfortunately when my father did question Tony, he revealed...something that made me suspicious, when he saw that I wanted closure, he suggested that I go to North Africa and infiltrate the cell Rivkin had been investigating... and I was captured"

Fornell felt himself go cold at those words, and he had to resist the urge to call Emily and ensure she was still safe. Then again, if he had to place his money on Diane or a terrorist cell, he'd bet on Diane any day and God help the poor bastards that went against her.

"And that is all I remember until I ended up in the river" she finished, holding out her left arm to him, "Although apparently I was in a hospital"

Fornell just had time to register that Ziva had been under an alias when he heard a resounding crash, his hand flew to his gun and his eyes to the door as the shattered glass fell to the carpet. A familiar hand reached in and turned the handle, allowing him and his men to burst into the room,

* * *

"Ziva" Gibbs sighed, crossing the room in two strides and pulling her into his arms,

"Thank God you're safe"

Fornell eyed his ruined door with a touch of amused despair, but he had to admit that it was a fitting tribute to the relationship of the FBI and NCIS.

McGee scuttled in after Gibbs and threw an apologetic smile at him before reaching out to grasp Ziva's shoulder,

"Hey!" he greeted, waiting until Gibbs had partially released Ziva before giving her a hug of his own,

"It's so good to see you"

"You too, Tim but..." she gasped, "Not so tight!"

"Oh sorry" Quickly he released her and then his face took on a horrified expression,

"What the heck happened to you?"

"Good question" Gibbs stated, catching a strand of Ziva's still wet hair between his fingers and sniffing it cautiously, "You been swimming David?"

Fornell decided to butt in before Gibbs came to his own conclusions,

"Actually Gibbs, at the moment that's the only answer we have to how Ziva got from North Africa to here"

"Kort got her out of Somalia, put her in Bethesda Hospital and then called us about a week ago"

Everyone focused their attention on DiNozzo, who had only just stepped through the door, holding an ice-pack in hand and a lightly bloodstained paper towel. Tobias couldn't help but comment,

"You look like hell"

"The same man who kidnapped Ziva and- presumably- through her in the river, also ran Tony down with his car" McGee supplied helpfully,

"Um..." the policeman pulled out a pad and pencil, "I'm going to need details if I'm to make an arrest"

"Oh" McGee drew him into the corner to share information, meanwhile Tobias Fornell watched as Ziva's eyes set on Tony like a lioness with its prey, after moment he looked up, obviously unwillingly and met her gaze.

"Bethesda hospital?" she asked, jerking her head to Gibbs to indicate whom she wanted to answer the question, but her eyes never leaving Tony's, both indecipherable.

"You needed medical treatment, Kort brought you back to Washington in the hope that you would give him information once you recovered"

"And did I?"

Worry laced Ziva's voice and Fornell ran a quick check in his mind to ensure she hadn't been privy to any FBI intel that the CIA could want.

"You weren't well enough" Tony assured her, his voice hard, "Half the time you weren't even aware of where you were, the rest you spent sleeping"

"You were _there_?!"

Everyone in the room winced at Ziva's surprised tone, DiNozzo didn't seem to take it too well either,

"Only til you kicked me out, after that Kort went AWOL and Vance carried you out during a fire alarm"

"_Leon_ Vance?" Fornell asked Gibbs, taking his arm and leading him from the room. McGee and the policeman hot on his heels,

* * *

"Director of NCIS?"

"One and the same Tobias" Gibbs sighed, leaning against a deserted desk, shifting some clutter aside, "And for the last few months, he's had my entire team tailed, even having some agents follow Palmer down to Vegas for his weekend off. I'm not quite sure if he didn't want Ziva in contact with me..."

"Or Ziva in contact with anyone period," Fornell finished for him,

"But why? What could Ziva possibly know that he'd risk taking out one of your team for? Doesn't he know what happened the last time someone did that?"

They all paused for a moment to remember Caitlin Todd, shot down by none other than Ziva's half-brother Ari Haswari. Fornell had been stunned when that familial tie had been spread through the rumour mill like wild-fire; he was still trying to figure out how one man could have fathered three children, with three different mothers and three different religions.

"Maybe he's desperate" McGee suggested, tapping away on his gadget.

"Desperate enough to risk a murder charge?" Tobias exchanged a look with Gibbs,

"Ziva must know something big then"

"Yeah" Gibbs agreed, looking back to Fornell's office, where he could see Ziva and Tony standing close together, conversing furiously.

"But does she know _what_ that something is?"

* * *

A/N- Don't worry they're talking next chapter.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N- Continuing angst for later chapters

* * *

Ziva could only stare at Tony as the others left the room. She knew they were trying to figure out who had made the attempt on her life and why, but frankly, at the moment she didn't care.

Tony stood before her again.

Her partner. Her betrayer. Her enemy. Her best-friend.

The last time she had seen Tony had been nearly a year ago in Tel Aviv, they last time she had spoken to him, she had pressed a gun to his stomach and felt his heart beat against her own.

That was what she remembered.

However, he told her differently,

"I was in Bethesda..." she tasted the words on her lips, trying to evoke memories beyond the horrors of that dark cell in Somalia,

"You spent most of the time so high on pain meds Wacko Jacko got jealous" Tony quipped, giving her the old infuriating smirk. The one that had driven her crazy even as she had tried to resist the urge to laugh.

She remembered missing him in Somalia, missing him with a passion that had made her chest ache, and now she was with him, the only thing she wanted to do was touch him, to feel the cloth of his shirt between her fingers, but something in his tone stopped her,

"You were _with_ me in Bethesda?"

He shook his head, "Not as a patient, although..." he gave a theatrical wince, "After tonight I might just need..."

"_Tony_"

The words were wrenched from her in an urgent, painful cry and he flinched as though she'd wounded him,

"No" he answered abruptly, "I wasn't a patient but I was with you...visiting and protection detail"  
_  
He was standing by her bedside, struggling out of a long-sleeved top and undershirt...  
_  
"Those dreams" she realised with wonder, moving forward with a smile on her face, feeling as though a light had been switched on inside her,

"Those dreams I had of you...and Gibbs...and that male nurse...they were _real_?"

He nodded, seemingly uncomfortable with having her so close to him,

"Down to the hideous flower pattern on the curtains"

Ziva ignored him, her mind moving too quickly for her to follow. If the Tony in her dreams had been real, then that meant, that the DiNozzo in what she had thought to be reality had been false.

"You were never in Africa" she laughed, giddy with relief.

"Ziva if I had known you-..."

She didn't let him finish, bridging the two foot distance between them and taking his hands with her own, "But don't you see Tony, you weren't _tortured_! That was all just a bad dream!"

She closed her eyes and laughed again, feeling as though the weight of the world had been taken off her shoulders. Tilting his head down as her laughter died, Tony pressed his forehead against hers, creating a small world where the only thing that existed was their faces and the air between them

"You dream about me being tortured David?" Tony teased, giving her a gentle smile, one she found herself able to return now the bandaging had been washed from her body.

"A lot less than when we first met...and you need a haircut" she pouted, enjoying the casual to-and-fro that had been an essential part of their former relationship,

"So do you"

She glared playfully at him, "I was _tortured_ DiNozzo"

"Yeah...well I had to endure an unhappy Gibbs after you left!"

"Are you saying Gibbs is worse than Somali terrorists?"

"Are you disagreeing with me?"

"Touché"

They chuckled in appreciation of the terrifying Gibbs, then grew quiet again, just standing there holding hands and breathing slowly, both exhausted and wounded, but reluctant to move away from each other and break the temporary truce they had once again found in their tumultuous partnership. Rivkin's ghost was the pink elephant in the room, but he would not be mentioned tonight- not when they had just found each other again.

* * *

McGee broke the silence first, startling them as he knocked on the glass wall of Fornell's office,

"Hey guys" he called through the glass, "Gibbs wants to go!"

"We're right behind you, Probie" Tony called back, keeping his eyes locked with Ziva. She smirked,

"Still tormenting McGee?"

"Til the day I die, David" he grimaced, "Sorry inappropriate"

"I am alive, Tony" she reminded him gently, "I survived"

"Yeah...but that's no reason to try it again"

When he finished that sentence, he stepped away, wrapping an arm about Ziva's shoulders and keeping his hands linked with hers. They left the office as Gibbs marched by in the hallway, following him over to the bank of elevators,

"I thought Anthony DiNozzo tried anything once- twice if he liked it?" Ziva mocked, keeping the long jacket wrapped around her hospital gown, the blanket had been left for the policeman to find,

"Just cause you were tied up and gagged doesn't mean I like it Ziva...oh wait. Yes it does"

Ziva scoffed and punched him in the arm as the elevator doors closed on the team.

* * *

Ziva tried her best to sit ramrod straight in the back of the car as Gibbs drove away into the night, but her adrenalin had worn off and she found herself leaning towards McGee, his arm going about her shoulders in a friendly man-hug as she curled against him. Tony had been thrown into the front with Gibbs after he'd all but carried her to the car; he was watching her with concern now as she started to drift to sleep. A sharp blast of the car horn started her awake and she felt something in her side tear,

"Ziv, you okay?" McGee asked as she hissed in pain, she gritted her teeth and shook her head,

"I think I might need a doctor McGee, these wounds cannot be washed away"

"Wished" Tony corrected before moaning and pressing his hand to the back of his skull again,

"Boss...I think I might need to get looked at again too"

Driving slower than usual, possibly because of the two wounded people in his car, Gibbs stopped at a red light, twisting his head to stare at her and Ziva felt a chill go down her spine.

"Ducky can treat the both of you" he decided, settling himself back into the seat and driving on,

"At NCIS?" Ziva asked, trying to keep her voice innocent and nonchalant,

"At NCIS" Gibbs confirmed, his voice cold and hard. That was when Tony met her eye in the mirror, shadowing her fear.

* * *

A/N- What's Gibbs going to do to Ziva?


	15. Chapter 15

A/N- TIVA and problems galore!

* * *

Ducky stood at the back entrance to the Navy Yard, his hands folded behind his back and his shoes pressed together, looking every bit the gentlemen, even if he was still in his scrubs.

The door behind him opened and Palmer stuck his head out,

"Uh Doctor Mallard?"

"Yes Mr Palmer?"

"I tried all their cells...Gibbs left his in his desk and McGee and Tony must have turned theirs off"

"Well, we did our best" Ducky conceded, sighing with weariness and disappointment.

He could only hope that Gibbs would see the extra lights at the front entrance of the Navy Yard and turn the car around quickly before the media spotted the passengers.

Or more importantly, saw Ziva David.

Unfortunately, in the era of technological advances, most people carried some form of recording equipment on them, thus enabling the shocking footage of Ziva David being thrown into the river, rescued from it and announcing herself as a federal agent to be presented as breaking news on every channel at seven o'clock sharp. And the wonders of the internet meant that when the young woman's name had been typed into search engines, her alliance with NCIS had appeared on social networking sights, along with dozens of pictures of her. It hadn't taken long for her Star of David necklace, a private family joke, and very rarely removed from around her neck, to be seen.  
Now over two dozen reported waited outside the Navy Yard, as close to the NCIS base as they could legally come, eager to prove the rumours and conspiracy theories that were growing wilder by the hour.

The agents still at NCIS at the time the story had broke were taking refuge in their offices; almost all of them glued to the television sets, awaiting orders. Those who had already left were trying to ring in, past the media calls, to see if they were needed. Mostly they were told to remain at home, there were enough agents trying to avoid windows and trying figure out how to get their cars out of the front parking lot without being blinded by the flash of cameras. SECNAV was waiting for an agent to take control, in lieu of the Director, except the only agent with experience, that wasn't a two hour plane flight away, was driving the car that held Ziva David.

"A troubling conundrum" Ducky murmured to himself,

But all the same, it would be lovely to see young Ziva again.

* * *

"Oh...this is not good"

"You _think_ DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded sarcastically, bringing the car to a quiet stop down the street from the gaggle of media hounds. He killed the lights lest they bring attention to themselves,

"Well, yeah boss...how are we going to get into the Navy Yar-ow!"

Due to his possible concussion, Gibbs couldn't head-slap DiNozzo, but he was willing to settle for a sharp shoulder-slap. Irritated, he patted down his jacket, looking for his cell phone,

"Whose got their phone on them?"

Out of habit, the three others in the car began digging in their pockets looking for their mobiles, even Tony and Ziva. McGee was the only one whose phone was still on his person and in one piece.

As soon as he switched it on, it began ringing shrilly.

"McGee here...Palmer?...Yeah we can see them...okay see you soon"

He hung up, "Palmer says there's no media at the back entrance to the Navy Yard"

"Good"

* * *

Gibbs looked out the window as he restarted the engine, noting even as he did so that a few journalists were already looking in their direction.

Quickly he swing the car into a sharp illegal u-turn and hit the gas, speeding back down the street to where the intersection led them to the road that finished in the back entrance of the Navy Yard.

Flashing his badge at the security guards, they drive through, the gates being closed after them. Seeing Ducky standing watch for them, Gibbs made sure to park as close to the door as possible without running the Scotsman over.

Slamming on the brakes and ripping the keys from the ignition, Gibbs got out of the car and all but pulled Ziva from her seat. She made a noise of faint protest but was otherwise compliant as he gripped her shoulder and forcefully guided Ziva towards Ducky.

"Ziva, my dear" Ducky cried happily, opening his arms to receive her,

"Ducky" she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"It's so good to see you again" Ducky leaned back so that Gibbs could see the unshed tears in his eyes, looking for all the world like a grandfather with his favoured child.

"Wrap it up!" Gibbs ordered before Ziva got the chance to respond, this would be hard enough without her dividing the team's loyalties,

"Duck, David and Tony will be needing medical attention. Ziva first"

"Ah, of course" Slipping back into his professional persona, Dr Mallard led the team to the elevator.

* * *

Keeping a firm eye on Ziva until the moment the doors closed, Gibbs nearly missed DiNozzo as he made to follow the pair. Reaching out, he grabbed the younger man's upper arm, not applying any strength but even the softest touch would have rendered one of his team still, such was his authority.

"Where do you think you're going DiNozzo?" he asked quietly as McGee wisely feigned sudden deafness, playing with his gadget thing.

He'd expected Tony would be surprised or embarrassed and wheel out a quick excuse regarding head trauma or confusion, accept Gibbs next order and then wait patiently for a free moment to sneak down and see his former partner, as he would have done only days ago.

Gibbs was sadly disappointed.

"With Ziva, boss" Tony answered with surprising aplomb.

"Did I say you could go with Ziva?" Gibbs responded, allowing some of his frustration to seep through into his voice,

"You told me to watch over her in the hospital" Tony argued, rebellion in his very posture.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs knew he should respond with a quick head-slap, or perhaps some harsh words to reinstate the fact that _he_ was the boss, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. The unwavering loyalty that Tony had shown him since their first day together, their unquestioned father-son bond and the easy unspoken friendship between them had been quietly usurped by Tony's passion for Ziva.

Sickened by fear for one of the few people he trusted unconditionally, Gibbs released Tony, watching as he bounded into the building, favouring the stairs as a faster access to the woman he cared so much for.

In that moment, Gibbs would have given anything to protect him from harm. Even when he knew that he was headed there as consequence of his own actions, actions he wouldn't likely ever repent- so long as they led him to Ziva David.

* * *

Ducky had led Ziva down to autopsy, fully aware of the irony of the situation, but knowing it was the only part of the building that contained all the medical equipment Miss David might require.

"I do apologise for not preparing the place for your arrival" he began, gesturing to the body of Lt Brown,

"Unfortunately she came in shortly before I received word of your impending return and I did not have the time with which to perform her autopsy"

Ziva smiled and, with Ducky assisting her, he managed to get her lying down on one of his tables,

"That is okay Doctor" she murmured, her voice sounding raspy with exhaustion,

"As long as we are not having a one-sided conversation in here, I am happy"

Ducky chortled at the sly reference to his practice of talking to his most frequent visitors, then Palmer came in and handed him a warm, wet towel.

"Now" Ducky began dabbing gently at the dirt on Ziva's visible skin,

"Let's see if we can't get you nice and squeaky clean again"

When Ziva didn't reply with a comment or question regarding that phrase, Ducky was worried she'd fallen unconscious. Then he heard the autopsy doors slide open and- knowing Palmer was placing Lt Brown into the morgue- made a quick guess as to who had just entered.

Palmer raised his head and smiled, "Hey Tony...How're you feeling?"

"Better Palmer" the voice was so close to Ducky he almost jumped,

"Thanks for before"

"Oh no problem," Palmer announced as he left the room, carrying some delayed evidence bags to Abby, "Anything for a bleeding friend" he joked,

"How's she doing Duck?"

Ducky looked up as Tony appeared in his line of vision, "Only a bit worse than you my friend" he assured the younger man,

"Though...at present, that does not calm ones nerves"

"I am perfectly fine" Ziva announced still laying on the autopsy table,

"Liar..." Tony accused as Ducky swept to the sink to wash the blood from the towel,

"You've just spent the last seven months going through hell"

"Eight months Tony..." Ziva began and Ducky wanted to leave the room running, knowing what was about to come,

"Remember, you killed the man that I loved"

* * *

Immediately Ducky could feel the tension in the room hit the roof, he wondered what would happen if Tony and Ziva finally came to the physical blows that had so often seemed inevitable during their heated arguments. He hoped he wouldn't have to call for help to separate them; Gibbs would be unremitting in his anger. However, though only a few months ago, Tony would have risen to the bait and perhaps started the slanging match, when he spoke next, there seemed to be a new maturity in the man,

"Did you feel for him what you feel for me?" Tony asked, and Ducky was able to see the man standing over Ziva, his hand resting on her shoulder and rubbing it tenderly, seeming to forget that they had an audience.

"No" she sounded as though she was choking as the word was forced from her mouth,

"Then it wasn't love" he pointed out with such confidence that Ducky was astounded.

"It wasn't hate either!" Ziva fought back, even as she took Tony's free hand and pressed it to her lips,

"Then it wasn't even passion! I said it before David, I'm tired of pretending, but I'm not ignoring it anymore. Run if you want to...but this time I'm following you, to the ends of the earth if I have to. I'm not losing you again; we've got too much between us to put up with these games and near-death risks any longer"

Belatedly realizing that the towel was washed clean, and the hot water was burning his hands, Ducky turned off the faucet. Wringing the towel between his hands, he turned back to see the passionate scenario before him. Tony and Ziva's eyes were locked together, their hands linked, even as Tony's left hand rubbed her exposed stomach and his right tangled itself in her hair,

"I'm not going to be with you Tony," Ziva swore, her voice bitter, but Ducky saw Tony just give her a wry smile.

"That's fine- as long as you're not with anyone else"

"And if you even look at another woman...I'll kill you both"

The last sentence filled Ducky with cold dread, and he remembered all the times when he had observed the oddly intense relationship between young Ziva and Tony.

He could recall the night at the bar, as he had watched as Ziva hit speed dial for Tony's cell phone again and _again_ and _again_. He remembered hearing McGee talk to Abby regarding Tony's obsessive investigation into Rivkin. Both displayed irrational jealousy when the other was involved in a liaison, often taking unwitting, but measured steps to sabotage the relationship before it became too serious. But heavens help the significant other if the romance ended by any other way than Ziva or Tony's hand, after Jeanne Benoit, Ziva had guarded Tony with a fierceness that reminded Ducky of a mother bear and her cub and any woman that had come near Tony had triggered her instant distrust and enmity.

And now, they were admitting their feelings for one another.

Ducky feared for what lay ahead.

* * *

A/N- Yes I decided a bit of darkness


	16. Chapter 16

A/N- Hello all. In regards to Chapter 9 sorry I didn't realise that the document hadn't uploaded onto the story properly.  
I still own nothing concerning NCIS but if someone would like to record the first episode of season 7 and stick it on youtube I'd be very grateful- I'm in Australia we likely wont see it for another few months.

* * *

Gibbs stood before the largest screen in MTAC, watching the face of the Secretary of the Navy as he gave a SITREP. In the last ten minutes he had seen the man show anger, shock, disbelief and now, concern.

"Do you know for sure that it was Leon Vance?"

"That threw Ziva into the river?" Gibbs paused as he took a long sip of the coffee McGee had brought him,

"No...But I know that it was Vance who took Ziva from the hospital against her will, when she wasn't stable enough to be moved. He had no way of knowing she would survive and somewhere between his car and the FBI she ended up taking a swim"

"Do you think we should contact Mossad and alert them to their agent's presence?"

Gibbs wrinkled his nose as he considered this, around him, agent's were typing away on computers and obeying the instructions he had given them- as they had always done,

"If the media outside is anything to go by, they probably already know. However, tell them Ziva is staying with us til she is recovered and if they want to talk to her, they can go through me first"

Ol' Hank gave Jethro a grim smile.

"That a threat Gibbs?"

He received a deceivingly friendly smile in return,

"Only until I have proof that Mossad didn't do this to her"

"Fair enough"

* * *

McGee stood up from his desk as the elevator opened and Ziva inched out, wrapped up so tightly in DiNozzo's arms that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

He recalled his two best-sellers as crime novelist Thom E Gemcity, how the relationship between Tommy and Lisa had been the most talked about amongst his fans.

And how most of NCIS had assumed he was writing fact in that regard.

But when Ziva came under the light in the bullpen, McGee realised that she wasn't wrapped in Tony's arms out of luxury,

She looked as though she could barely stand.

Her eyes were mostly closed, her neck tilted forward and she was leaning heavily against Tony,

"Oh my God"

Jumping at the voice, McGee looked over his cubicle wall to see Abby had snuck up on him, partially concealed in the darkness and she was staring at Ziva with a horrified expression.

He didn't blame her- when he'd taken his first good look at Ziva he'd wanted to knock down a wall, or better yet, the bastards that had done this to her.

Abby came forward into the bullpen, setting down her bag and clutching her hands so tightly her knuckles went white, waiting patiently as Tony slowly lowered Ziva into his desk chair, treating her as though she were glass.

"Hey Ziva" Abby whispered, her usual energetic greeting absent but her words still heartfelt. She knelt before the exhausted woman,

"Welcome back!"

"Abby" McGee panicked and hurried forward as Ziva looked to topple from her chair, but Tony had kept his hands firmly on her shoulders, keeping her upright as she wrapped her arms about the forensic scientist's neck,

"I missed you the most"

"Aw...I missed you too, Zee"

Abby leapt to her feet, her bouncy gait even more pronounced next to the hunched woman before her,

"I can't wait to show you my lab...I had some new equipment installed, shifted everything round a little bit...oh and I have some new pictures up"

"That'll have to wait til tomorrow Abs" Tony told her, meeting her eye above Ziva's head,

"Yeah it will"

Everyone turned as Gibbs descended the stairs and rounded the corner into the bullpen, marching to his desk and slinging his jacket over his arm,

"It's late," he told everyone, switching off his computer,

"Go home"

From habit, McGee started packing his things and Abby went to stand next to Gibbs' desk, waiting to walk out with him. Only Tony and Ziva hesitated,

"Boss..." Tony began, giving the anticipatory head-slap grimace,

"Ziva doesn't have a home and I need someone to watch me...so it'll make sense if-"

"McGee, Abby...you two get to babysit DiNozzo tonight"

McGee felt something akin to dismay wash over him, already foreseeing waking up with no eyebrows. Abby clapped her hands in delight,

"Yay! Slumber party"

Throwing her a quick smile, he waited, bracing himself for the trouble ahead,

"Ziva" Gibbs rapped his knuckles on Tony's desk to catch her attention,

"You're with me"

She didn't reply to the command, but reached up to tap Tony's left hand, he removed them from her shoulders and began to help her up,

"McGee!" Gibbs called as he and Abby swept to the elevator,

"Help Ziva to my car"

Tim flinched as though he'd heard a gunshot. He held his breath until the elevator doors closed and counted to ten, before tentatively making his way across the ten foot gap between his desk and Tony's. He swallowed nervously, before plucking up the courage to stretch his hand towards Ziva's arm.

Faster than he could follow, Timothy found his wrist caught in a vice grip and being squeezed, _hard_.

"Tony" he raised his eyes to take in the furious face of his co-worker, seeing him shudder with rebellious anger. Anger, Timothy knew that respect would never let him show to Gibbs.

McGee was another matter.

"Tony" Ziva murmured, her voice soft but determined,

"Let Tim go"

Exhaling through his nose, Tony released Tim's wrist, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

"Okay...okay...I'll stay with McGee and you'll go with Gibbs"

He leaned past her to his desk and picked up his mobile phone, handing it to her,

"Call me when you get there"

Ziva nodded and stretched upwards to press her forehead against DiNozzo's chin,

"Sleep well"

"You too David"

Then Tony grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, storming out of the bullpen and taking the stairs. Leaving Tim and Ziva standing at his desk, both watching their team member,

"He is my best chance of survival McGee, yes?"

McGee swallowed nervously at the finality in Ziva's tone, but he couldn't lie. He nodded, even though she couldn't see him,

"So why is Gibbs not letting me near him?"

"I don't know"

* * *

"Tony!"

McGee heard Abby's whine as he slipped through the front door of DiNozzo's apartment. He set down his bag and looked down the sumptuously furbished hallway, trying to remember the layout of his team member's apartment. Giving up, he followed the sound of Abby's voice, reaching the small kitchen where Tony leant against the counter as the forensic scientist rummaged through his fridge,

"You could have warned me that you don't drink Red Bull!"

"Hi McGee" Tony greeted, pointedly ignoring Abby's complaints,

"We've got pizza, beer and nachos

Tim's mouth watered at the thought of the pizza, Tony was friends with the owner of the pizza joint they all used, so they could always rely on discounts and extra topping. He could smell it wafting from the living room and headed through, admiring the leather couch before throwing himself onto it. He kicked off his shoes and was about to put his feet up on the coffee table before noting that it was probably worth more than his car.

No one could deny that Anthony DiNozzo lived in style.

Where McGee, Abby and even Gibbs had been brought up in middle class homes, suburbs and schools, Anthony DiNozzo was a native Long Islander. His father was one of the wealthiest businessmen in the United States and, even though Tony had been cut off at thirteen, the blue-chip shares he had been given at birth still enabled him to live with a certain degree of decadence.

His house was a mixture of designer furniture and bachelor decorations.

Blue blood breeding with blue collar tastes.

Classic DiNozzo.

Tim was brought back into the moment by Abby shuffling into the living room, her arm full of Red Bull cans and other soft drinks,

"Lucky for me I always carry my own supply wherever I go" she announced smugly before settling next to McGee, he had to grin even as he slid an arm about her waist to keep her from falling off the couch.

"That's great Abs" Tony murmured before setting his eyes on the phone sitting on the small table beside the plasma and surround sound system.

For the rest of the night McGee and Abby had a James Bond marathon, laughing at some of the more ridiculous scenes and admiring the suave moves of the several James Bond actors.  
While Anthony DiNozzo stared at the phone, waiting silently for the call.

* * *

Ziva had to quell the anger that rose within her when the cell phone was snatched from her hand.

"Comm. silence til further notice" Gibbs snapped as he stormed from the living room of his home.

Swallowing nervously, she perched on the edge of his couch, watching as he came back in with a sleeping bag and pillow that he tossed onto the couch with such force that the sleeping bag bounced to the floor.

"Breakfast at six" he grunted before turning from the room, she closed her eyes as he stomped down the stairs to his basement. Each thump against the wood feeling like a physical blow to her already overworked emotions.

She remembered the times she had done something to make Gibbs happy or proud, how he would reward her with a quick smile. Or the times when she had been lost or frightened and done her best to hide it from the team. He would always see through her facade and say or do something to make her feel better and remind her that she wasn't alone.

And now he was looking at her with barely concealed hostility, and she didn't know why.

All she knew was that she wanted her surrogate father back.

* * *

Gibbs concentrated on sanding back the wood of his new boat. _Kelly_ now sitting on the beach in Mexico, used by Franks for the occasional fishing trip. He hadn't thought of a name for his fifth one yet, _Mistake_ or _Betrayal _were high up on the list though.

Or perhaps he would just skip the subtlety and name it _Ziva Sarah David-Mossad_.

He'd need more paint.

"I never understood how you do get the boats out of the basement"

He gritted his teeth and ignored the young woman leaning against the railing, her hair falling to shield her face, looking so innocent.

"Tony believes you have a secret passageway that leads to the old rail network set up during the Civil War. McGee reckons that you have a teleportation device like Star Gate and Abby suggested that you..."

"Is this going anywhere David?" Gibbs barked, his frustration and anger rising up within him so quickly that he nearly lost control of the tool in his hand.

"You are angry with me Gibbs" Ziva noted, slowly descending the stairs,

"I know that but I do not understand why"

"Then figure it out!"

Throwing down his tools, Gibbs faced the young Israeli, seeing for the first time that she was dressed in one of his own t-shirts. The same one Kelly had insisted on sleeping in, it was old and tattered but she wasn't likely to be going outside in it.

When Diane had worn that shirt to polish the furniture, he'd raised hell, shouting at her til she'd stormed out in tears.

But seeing Ziva in it didn't move him to anger, it just reminded him that he'd lost another daughter.

"I cannot" she admitted,

"I have gone over everything I ever did that could have upset you...the only thing I could think of was the information I withheld from you in regard to Rivkin, but Gibbs...that was because..."

"Because you were Mossad" Gibbs marched up to her, her face only inches from his own,

"I know Ziva, I know you were only following orders, I know that you were loyal to your father, I know that you were only doing what was best for everyone"

"Then what?!" Ziva screamed, futilely hitting his shoulders,

"What have I done to make you stop loving me?"

Gibbs pointed to the top of the stairs, "Four years ago, you stood right there and put a bullet between your brother's eyes. You killed him to save me...from that second on I trusted you more than I had ever trusted another agent before, even Tony. When people suggested that you couldn't be relied upon for your loyalty, when they suggested I was being played, I ignored them because I knew..._I knew_ they were the ones who were wrong and then..."

Gibbs choked on the words, he had to turn and stride to his workbench to collect himself, he rested his hands on the table and leant against it,

"And then I find out from Leon Vance that that act was nothing more than a ploy by your father to fool me into trusting you...I never felt so _betrayed_"

In the following silence he heard Ziva's strangled breathing as she sobbed into her hands,

"It is a lie" she protested, coming forward, standing under the light and narrowing her fragile eyes against the beam,

"I adored Ari with every inch of my being, he was the only man who ever loved me unconditionally, who understood the life I lived and forgave me for my sins. Even if my father _had_ ordered me to kill him...even if I had seen him kill Kate with his own hands...I wouldn't have shot him for any other reason than to protect us all from the monster he had become"

Gibbs turned his head to face her, "Then how-"

"I don't know" she shook her head, her mouth open as she gasped for air, tears coursing down her face,

"I don't know how they know I killed Ari...I never told a living soul what I had done...I was so _ashamed_"

She broke then, her knees giving way and Gibbs had to lean down to catch her into his arms, resting his back against the wall as he cradled her against his chest. She cried into his shirt, clutching it between her swollen fingers while he patted her back and kissed her hair.

"I can't believe you Ziva" he admitted, hating himself as he did so, "There's been too much..."

"I'll prove it to you" she swore, wiping her nose and staring determinedly into his eyes,

"Even if it takes the rest of my life...I will prove that you can trust me"

He had to grin at the resolution written all over her face,

"That's my girl"

* * *

A/N- Just rewatched Aliyah and thats where the inspiration came from.


	17. Chapter 17

* * *

A/N- Just a small bit of McAbby and evil.

* * *

The first thing Abby realised when she woke up was that she wasn't in her coffin.

The second thing she realised was that she wasn't alone.

She was definitely with someone.

Curled on her side, with her knees bent, her back was pressed against someone's stomach and their arm was laced around her shoulders while her head rested on their other.

Curious she looked down at the hand lying beside her face, recognising the short nails and dry skin immediately.

"Morning McGee" she chirped slyly, twisting her head to try and see his face, which was pillowed against her shoulder,

"Hmmm" McGee retorted still heavily asleep.

It was then that Abby noticed that they were sleeping on the couch, with their backs facing the television screen. Odd, but not the weirdest position she'd ever woken up in.

Bored now, Abby rotated her shoulders, trying to shift McGee off so she could get up.

McGee only shuffled closer to her, pressing his stomach against her butt,

And that wasn't all she felt.

"Whoa!" Abby sat up so quickly McGee fell off the couch and landed to the floor with a thud.

Crying out he looked up at her, sore and confused.

"Abby what the hell?!"

She pointed at him, "You keep your dirty ways to yourself mister"

She had to resist the urge to laugh when she saw him catch on and blush,

"It's morning...and you know I was sleeping up against you...well it's to be expected"

"Well I expect you to hop into Tony's shower and turn the cold water on full blast" she ordered, crossing her arms.

Had they been at one another's apartment, McGee might have suggested they shower together, or Abby might have woken him up an entirely different way.

As it was, a chastened McGee grabbed his duffel bag and shuffled off to the bathroom, leaving Abby to sit cross legged and observe the scene around her.

An overstuffed doona lay on the living room floor, probably from the guest room she and McGee were meant to have slept in. Empty bags of chips and bottles of beer were scattered over the coffee table. At some point the television had been turned off and their bags placed at the foot of the couch. Tony must have-

"Oh my God" Abby shouted, looking around frantically,

"_Tony!_"

Gibbs was going to kill her. Here she had been appointed to watch over Tony in case he had a concussion, fell asleep and died and she'd fallen asleep herself.

Vaulting over the back of the couch, Abby shouted for Tony again, scuttling into his bedroom, the guest room and the laundry. She was just about to call McGee from the bathroom when a voice replied,

"In the kitchen Abs"

"Oh thank-god!"

Throwing herself into the tiny space she wrapped her arms about Tony's neck and hugged him in relief,

"Oh I was so worried McGee and I had just let you die"

He chuckled, "It'll take more than you and the Probie snuggling to get rid of me Abs"

She smiled but decided not to comment, instead she followed her nose to see the bacon frying in the pan and the coffee percolating.

"Tony...you made us breakfast!"

Kissing him on the cheek, she pulled herself up onto the bench and grabbed a washed out glass from last night, pouring the coffee into it.

"Well I was the only one not sleeping, might as well be of some use"

"Hmmm" Abby agreed grabbing a croissant from the dish beside her,

"By the way...what time did Ziva finally call?"

Tony nearly lost his hold on the frying pan, and only with shaking hands was he able to get the rashes of bacon onto the large plate with the eggs.

"She didn't...she must have forgotten"

Abby nearly choked on the croissant in her mouth and felt the bile rise in her throat; she clutched the edge of the bench and prayed for the room to stop spinning.

Ziva David had eidetic recall and a perfect memory.

She would never have forgot to call Tony if he had asked her to,  
_  
'Please'_ Abby suddenly found herself begging the God that had ignored her prayers for so long,  
_  
'Please don't take her from us again, we won't survive'_

Tony was talking, even as she struggled to breathe, swallowing she tried to focus on his words.

"...so I went out and got some clothes for her, pretty basic but better than the hospital gown, some toiletries if she's allowed to shower today and..."

Abby didn't let him finish, she pulled him to her in another hug, wrapping her knees around his waist to keep her balance,

"She'll be fine Tony" she lied, holding him tight.

"I know Abby..." he didn't finish lying to her; he just rested his head against hers.

"Hey I smell bacon"

His hair still wet from the shower, McGee padded into the kitchen, a happy grin on his face, he grabbed a fork and reached out to spear a piece, only to find his hand being slapped away by Tony,

"No breakfast for you Probie" he teased, "You could lose a few pounds"

Abby smirked at the outraged look on Tim's face, "Wha- I weigh like only a few more than you"

"I am the perfect weight" Tony assured him, pointing with his own fork, "Anything more is obese, anything less is anorexic"

"Well I'm sorry I don't get as much 'exercise' as you do Tony" McGee mocked,

"Maybe if I lowered my standards to female and breathing I'd weigh the same as you"

"Huh" Tony mulled, "Maybe if you weighed the same as me, Abby wouldn't have made you shower this morning"

Abby was amazed by how red Tim could go, he stared at her, mortified,

"You told him?!"

"No" she protested, bringing her hands to her chest, "I would never tell him McGee, you know that"

"You two were loud enough for Gibbs to hear" he crowed, getting out two plates and spooning generous helpings on,

"Now hurry up and eat, we have to get to the boss' house"

* * *

Across the road from Anthony DiNozzo's apartment building was an empty square block, with long grass, a row of trees and some hydrangeas that had been planted there before living memory. It was an abandoned lot with aspirations to be a park, fenced in on three sides by houses. The children of the street would play there, the teenagers would make-out there and the old people would occasionally mow the grass, set up tables and have long discussions there.

It was the perfect place for a stake-out.

Positioned behind the oak tree, the man held the binoculars to his eyes and watched as the three NCIS agents left the apartment at the same time and came down the steps, the tallest one- Anthony DiNozzo- carrying two shopping bags. They all got into their separate cars and pulled out of the parking lot, all heading west with Special Agent McGee leading the convoy.

Pulling out his mobile he accessed the tracking devices planted under the three vehicles and found that the three cars were still heading west, not circling the block and returning back to the apartment.

There wouldn't be a better time for him.

Dressed in civilian gear, but with a fake federal badge attached to his belt, he jogged across the road and up the stairs leading to the apartment. Picking the lock with relative ease, he looked both ways to ensure nobody was watching him before entering.

His hand wrapped around his gun, he crept through the rooms of DiNozzo's home, looking through the mess for any sign of life. When he was completely satisfied that he was the only person in the apartment, he sighed and dialled a number on his mobile.

"Shalom" a quiet voice answered on the first ring,

"Medea isn't with Jason" he reported quickly, letting himself out of the apartment and heading down the street to where his car was parked. The voice cursed in fluent French before responding,

"Try with the King of Corinth" he was ordered.

"I will"

Hanging up he punched the steering wheel of his car, wishing it was the treacherous bitch.

Had he known she would be this much trouble, he would have killed her in Somalia.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

A/N- Dammit here is Aus we have to wait an extra week for season 7! Anyway here comes the CIA and some TIVA

* * *

Ziva found herself in a world of pain. Struggling to breathe through the agony, she choked and fell from her seat, clutching the table in an effort to stay standing; sounds of pain escaped her lips.

"Come on" Gibbs hooker her around the waist and carried her into the kitchen, placing her head over the sink,

"Spit"

She obeyed him, spitting the cereal from her mouth and gasping in lungs full of air, moaning she pressed her hand to her still healing jaw.

"I think I dressed my luck" she explained chagrined, realising only a second later that she'd used the wrong word.

But Gibbs wasn't Tony, he didn't correct her out of habit, to prevent her from making the same mistake again or embarrassing herself.

"Right" he released her and went back to the bench, picking up her breakfast bowl,

"No cereal or anything solid...maybe we should just stick to liquids"

Ziva nodded, even as her stomach pained with hunger. Tired, she settled back down at the table and accepted the glass of orange juice placed before her.

The excitement of the morning over, Gibbs took his seat across from her and shook open the morning paper, instantly retreating into his own world.

Leaving Ziva to stare around the neat house with a growing sense of loneliness.

Gibbs wasn't a talker, that little fact was known throughout D.C and some parts of Europe.

However Ziva wasn't one for long lengthy conversations either,

Perhaps that was why she got along so well with Tony, he could fill her otherwise silent days with noise and laughter and she would be able to partake in conversation about trivial little subjects without ever feeling uncomfortable. Or if she didn't feel like talking, she could just sit back and listen to him, only occasionally throwing in a thought or opinion if she wished and they could pass hours that way.

She wasn't a talker, but in a country where it seemed nobody spoke her primary language, Tony had kept her from feeling lonely

She'd missed that most of all.

* * *

"Good morning!"

She jumped as the clipped Scottish tones broke the silence, turning her head she saw Ducky coming through the back door, wearing his overcoat and carrying his briefcase,

"And how are we all today?" he asked, directing the question at both of them, those his eyes were on Ziva,

"Couple of near-death incidents but we're fine now" Gibbs commented drily, turning the page of the paper,

"I cannot eat solid foods" she explained sorrowfully,

"Ah" Ducky bustled forward, "Yes I thought that might be the case...I took the liberty of going over your most recent medical report...and though you are healing quite remarkably, best not to push our luck...lest you have a relapse"

Ziva smiled as Ducky made his way around the kitchen, opening the right cupboards and drawers and taking out what he needed, Gibbs not even looking up from his paper.

Had these two men been Mossad they would never have been so nonchalant, Ducky wouldn't have been able to let himself into Gibbs' home and Gibbs wouldn't have allowed him to help himself to his possessions.

Trust no-one, not even your closest friend.

How many times had her father and trainers told her that, drilled that into her?

But that was the way these NCIS agents operated, trust was the foundation on which they built their relationships. She hadn't even been at NCIS for six months before she'd been given keys to the team's homes, before finding out that _every_ member had a spare key to everyone's place.

And that unquestioning trust was something she adored them for.

Ducky came back to the table and placed a bowl before her,

"Mashed banana my dear" he smiled, dropping a straw into her juice,

"Enjoy"

She chuckled, "Thank-you"

Oddly enough it felt like the best meal she'd had in years.

* * *

Eli David looked down at the caviar and oysters on his plate, pushing them aside with disinterest. He brought the crystal glass of Moet to his mouth and sipped it delicately, not tasting the liquid as it trickled down his throat. Looking over the rim of his glass, he saw the young man perched nervously on the edge of his seat, twisting his hands and sweating like an amateur.

This was who had been sent to deal with him- an amateur, a child, a nobody.

He, Eli David, was forced to accept nobodies into his home.

Swallowing the champagne he set the glass back on the table, and clasped his hands in front of him,

"So...the government sends you to ask me to step down, not instruct, not order, not threaten...but ask, as though they have no authority over Mossad"

The boy coughed anxiously, "Well sir, over the years you have done a lot for Israel..."

"I have done more for this country than you could ever imagine" Eli interrupted sharply,

"More than those politicians and paper pushers that you serve will do in their lifetime...and now they insult me by sending you to try and scare me away"

"To take a leave of absence during what must be a trying time for you" the boy quoted, probably mimicking the words of his superiors. Eli could only laugh,

"A trying time? Because my daughter tumbled off a bridge! It was not suggested when my wife was killed by a jealous lover or my youngest daughter was murdered, or when my son was shot down...and yet, here you are now"

"With all due respect sir" the boy murmured,

"Your wife, youngest daughter and son weren't breaking news in several countries"

"Ah, so now we come to the real problem" Eli leant back in his chair, becoming aggravated despite himself, "The men in ivory towers are afraid that I may become an embarrassment, that Mossad and Israel's standing in the world might be damaged by my personal life. Go back to your boss and explain that Ziva David is dead to me, that I care nothing for her and that anything that might happen to her now will have nothing to do with me..._go_!"

The boy jumped to his feet and scurried from the receiving room of the opulent manor, leaving the angered Eli David to his hateful thoughts.

Ziva David. From the moment she'd asked to join Mossad, to follow in her father's footsteps, she had been a liability.

Yes, she had been a decorated soldier, even at her young age, and oh, how much she had accomplished with Mossad, bringing down cells and operating with agents twice her age. Yet, at the end of the day, Eli was always assumed to be weak because of his children; people would think that they were the way to destroy him. Their triumphs had brought him little glory and their failures had been counted against him.

But she had been beautiful, his eldest daughter.

Even at fifteen, men's heads had turned when she entered a room and their eyes had followed her. When she had turned sixteen, they had begun making offers for her hand in marriage.

Not only was she young and beautiful, but she was the daughter of Rachel Ben Ami, a woman whose family commanded much respect in Mossad and the greater Israel.

Ziva wouldn't only bring fertility and beauty to her husband, but a powerful lineage that would open doors throughout the country.

If only she had been an obedient daughter.

Instead she had listened to her brother Ari's advice and begged her father not to marry her until she was older, until she had lived her life.

Fool that he had been, he agreed, he had seen himself as a fair man and decided to let his daughter travel the world, serving Mossad until she decided she was ready for marriage.

Except Mossad had led her to NCIS and Anthony DiNozzo.

After his son Ari had gone rogue, Eli David's faith in his own abilities had been shaken, he'd begun to doubt himself. As a precaution he'd begun having his daughter monitored in Washington, making sure that her activities couldn't be considered harmful to Mossad.

Her relationship with the Roman Catholic Italian American federal agent had been discovered only by accident, the result of several innocuous photos and reports of casual meetings that apart didn't mean anything, but put together, made a suggestive picture.

Rumours had begun to filter back to Mossad, talk of his daughter becoming infatuated with the man, easily laughed off for anyone who believed they knew Ziva David.

But then _that_ book had come out.

Deep Six by Thom E. Gemcity with characters that barely concealed the identity of those who they were based on. And suddenly the dynamic of his daughter's relationship with that man was there for all to see.

She had shamed him, chasing a man her inferior so publicly, slavering after him like a dog.

Even Michael Rivkin hadn't managed to cause a rift in their relationship until his death, but by then it was too late...his daughter was no longer Mossad through and through.

So now she could fuck DiNozzo to her heart's desire, she could become a soft, fat American citizen and give him a dozen gentile bastards.

He no longer cared.

* * *

Abby was slightly annoyed that she had reached Gibbs home before her favourite track had finished, but she was too excited to even consider sitting in her car for a whole three minutes. Not when Ziva was...  
being led from Gibbs home in handcuffs.

"Hey!"

She climbed from her car just as McGee raced from his own, shouting questions at Gibbs as he stood on his front porch, watching the scene with concerned eyes,

"Boss what's happening?!"

She scuttled after McGee but made a sharp turn at the last second, reaching Ziva and the men in identical black suits that surrounded her,

"Where are you taking her?"

"We aren't at liberty to say ma'm" one of them reported,

"Aren't at li-" Abby began horrified,

"I will be fine Abby" Ziva reassured her quietly, "These men belong to Kort"

Abby Scuito had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, only Ziva David could be snatched by Trent Kort and assume she would be fine. Although if Abby had to bet on a fight between Kort and Ziva- well she wouldn't be putting her money on the CIA that was for sure.

Glaring at the mean looking men, Abby stepped aside crossing her arms over her chest to better let them know her displeasure. They stared back with impassive eyes.

Pushing past her, they reached the edge of the lawn when they encountered their next obstacle.

Abby watched with apprehension as Anthony DiNozzo blocked their path, his hand resting on his holster and fury in his eyes.

"Please move sir" one of the clones ordered but Tony didn't move.

Behind her, Abby was aware that McGee and Gibbs were hurrying to their team member, ready to restrain him if he threw the first punch, or back him if it was thrown at him.

"Tony" Ziva slipped from the agents grasp and stepped forward, looking all the more fragile in her too small blue tank top and caramel leggings, with her hair blowing in the wind and her hands cuffed behind her back.

"It will be alright...I give my word"

Abby could see that Tony didn't believe that, he took a step closer, towering over his partner.

And a second later he pulled her to him in a passionate kiss.

Her jaw dropped and beside her McGee had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at their fellow team members with a matching expression of shock.

"Ah hell"

Abby and Tim looked sideways to see Gibbs watching the scene with disappointment,

"They should have waited"

Blinking Abby turned back to see that Ziva had divested herself of her cuffs, as only she knew how, and tangled her hands in Tony's hair. He lifted her off the ground, her feet touching his shins, their heads at the same level, he held her tight against him as their kiss continued.

When they finally released each other, and Tony lowered her back to the earth, they were both panting slightly and utterly oblivious to the suited agents waiting, embarrassed and impatient.

"I'll be right behind you Ziva, as close as these idiots will let me"

Abby saw her grin as the agents picked up the handcuffs and reattached them to her, properly this time.

"I know, fino a che non lo vedi dopo..."

"Sarete nel mio ogni pensiero" Tony finished, squeezing her arm before walking back to his still running car.

* * *

It was only after the two cars, one holding her surrogate brother and the other her best girlfriend, pulled away from the curb that Abby realised that, in her fear, she had grabbed McGee's hand for comfort.

He was holding it now, his skin feeling dry against her clammy palms as she dug her nails into the back of his hand.

"Boss...what just happened?" McGee asked, turning both himself and Abby in a semi-circle so that they wouldn't have to release each other and  
Abby wouldn't have to try and keep pace on the soft soil in her high heeled boots.

"Kort was pissed when he nearly lost Ziva yesterday" Gibbs revealed, leading them back to the house, "I'm guessing he wants to grill Ziva for all the information she's got before someone else gets to her first"

Abby met McGee's eyes and saw her concern mirrored there, "And by that you mean...?"

"I mean, that if DiNozzo hadn't run after Ziva I would have ordered him to go along anyway...as protection detail"

Gibbs stormed back inside, but Abby tugged on McGee's hand as he made to follow him,

"I think we just got another case" he announced, exhaling nervously.

"McGee" Abby threw herself into Tim's arms, burying her face in his neck,

"Don't ever get dragged off by the CIA" she begged him and rather than laugh off her fears as anyone else would have done, he hugged her back,

"I'll try not to"

* * *

A/N- I'm not entirely sure who the man who broke into DiNozzo's house works for yet. I'll have to let you know.  
Tony and Ziva aren't together yet

The Italian translates roughly to- Until I see you next  
You'll be in my every thought


	19. Chapter 19

A/N- Thanks for all the lovely reviews, sorry for all the delays.

* * *

Ziva David pressed her swollen lips together, tasting strong espresso and mouthwash.

Tasting Tony.

Very few things Ziva did were impulsive, she'd had most impulsiveness bred out of her during Mossad and not touched it again until NCIS. So when she had kissed Tony, or rather, returned his kiss, she had surprised not only herself but him as well.

He always seemed so determined to disbelieve her feelings for him. As though it were impossible that she could care for him.

Well, they were real and she did.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip, enjoying the last few stolen moments of pleasure, knowing it alone might sustain her through what was to come.

* * *

Trent Kort was waiting for her in the underground parking lot of presumably one of the many CIA buildings. Unlike NCIS, the CIA had more U.S Government funding than Hussein and more homes than A-list celebrities.

Since she was still in Washington, and hadn't been dragged from Gibbs' home without witnesses, she had to assume she wasn't about to be interrogated in the style she herself knew so well.

"Ms David" Kort gave her a genteel nod as she was led from the car, "I do apologize for the cuffs, I wasn't entirely sure whether you would agree to come"

"I was not asked" she rolled her shoulders as the cuffs were removed, "Perhaps if I had been I would have said yes"

"Ah...but I couldn't afford for you to say no"

Kort led her to an elevator, decorated with plush interior and a large mirror she dutifully avoided,

"Unfortunately Death seems determined to find you"

"And I am determined to avoid it"

The elevator door opened and Ziva froze, recognising the room before her instantly.

She was on the second floor of the Israeli Embassy.

Around her, CIA operatives strode, making arrests and tearing through rooms, she could hear shouts of protest, anger and fear.  
_  
'It was happening again'  
_  
Papers lay scattered across the floors, furniture and artwork stood in the middle of the hallway, as the areas under or around them were checked.

Kort didn't even bat an eyelid, "Come"

* * *

He escorted her through the chaos, as she tried to ignore the accusing eyes around her. She wanted to ask what they were doing here, what she was doing here. Surely she was no longer an active Mossad agent; at least she didn't think so. She hadn't received any information regarding otherwise so she was essentially walking empty handed amongst her enemies.

Or was she?

They entered the office of Michael Bashan. Where she had spent so much time, reporting to Mossad, conferring with allies, having long friendly talks with Michael himself.

He had been her friend, _once_.

She was seated on the couch, with Kort taking the leather chair from behind the desk, she briefly wondered why they were not seated more formally, with Kort holding the position of power, when she realised that the only other chairs in the room were now broken pieces of wood and upholstery on the floor.

"I assume there is a reason we are here and not at the CIA headquarters?"

He only grinned, "Unfortunately Ms David your... momentous return to NCIS meant that we could not afford to delay and allow anyone to bury information regarding your time in Somalia"

He withdrew an envelope from his jacket and handed it to her, faintly curious, she ran her thumb under the seal, tore it open and slipped her hand inside, feeling leather and plastic.

Tipping the contents onto her lap she found a passport, a driver's licence and several other documents. All American and all with her name and details on them,

"What is all this?" she demanded, sliding as far away from the offensive papers as she could.

"Well Miss David, you find yourself in a very unfortunate position. Should the director of NCIS, or Gibbs as we now know him, decide not to reinstate you at the agency, you would find yourself on the first non-stop flight back to Israel"

She raised her head and stared defiantly at him, "And you think I should be worried about that?"

"I think there is a reason you have yet to call home and let your dear father know the joyous news of your survival"

There were several reasons she had not yet made that call. However, none of the main reasons were what Kort suspected.

* * *

The first was simple; she had simply not had the time to make a video call through MTAC to her father. From the moment she had been fished from the Potomac, she had been surrounded by people, all asking questions of her or tending to her, she had only got about three hours sleep and even then she'd felt Gibbs checking on her at random times. She suspected her father would want to see, rather than just hear, her reassurance that she was alive.

Her second reason was recuperation. As soon as she returned to Israel, Mossad would send her right back to the field; on a mission or as a control officer. Nobody at Mossad ever had a relaxing day at work; and after Somalia she didn't want to be hurled into an undercover operation in Egypt with long days and even longer nights. Not when it still hurt to move and she wouldn't be able to perform at her best.

Her third reason was Michael Aaron Rivkin. They had been together for half a year. Six fleeting months where they had been on different sides of the world and called each other at odd hours, written long awkward emails filled with emotions and Mossad Intel. When they had found time to see each other they had been like intimate strangers, knowing little more than their names and backgrounds.

And after all this time she couldn't be sure if any of it had been real.

Her final reason was her family. Her sister Abby, her uncle Ducky, her cousins McGee and Palmer, her father Gibbs. Without even asking they had created intimate roles for themselves around her, settling into the places left empty by her biological family. Yes, the team often clashed, they had several different opinions and the arguments could get heated, but at the end of the day they would simply push their troubles aside and go out for drinks, everything forgotten.

They'd given her more in four years than her father had in the previous thirty.

* * *

She raised her head to throw Kort a tight smile, stretching out her hand

"Give me a phone...I shall call him now"

He called her bluff and withdrew his phone from his pocket, tossing it to her, it fumbled in her hand and she struggled to catch it. Holding her breath as her heart pounded violently in her chest, she dialled the number from memory and pressed the phone to her ear as hard as she could.

"Shalom" a perfunctory voice answered, reverting to English after the traditional Israeli greeting "How may I help you?"

"Yes" Ziva swallowed, her throat dry and tight, "This is Off-Ziva David calling for Deputy Director David"

She had the benefit of seeing Kort's grin grow wider for every second of silence on the other end of line, "Ah..." the voice still continued in English, not granting Ziva the entitlement of reverting to her native language.

"One moment please"

Her knee started to tremble with nerves, it took conscious thought for her to control it, but her palms were sweaty and it was difficult to breathe.

It seemed an eternity before somebody picked up on the other end of the phone,

"Hello little Ziva" the male voice was horribly familiar,

"Officer Hadar" she nearly choked on the words, on the hatred she felt for the man. He had been the one who to blow up her apartment, who had not reached Michael in time, who had her father's ear.

"Unfortunately your father is unable to come to the phone right now, but I am sure he will be happy to call you back at the earliest convenient time"

She wondered if her father was standing at Hadar's shoulder as he spoke to her, if he at least had the decency to be embarrassed at declining to answer his daughter's call.

"Alright then...at my father's earliest convenience, please be so kind as to inform him that I am alive and in Washington D.C. Tell him not to be concerned for my welfare, Special Agent _Gibbs_ is caring for me"

She knew her father detested Gibbs for the loyalty he inspired in her, she hoped that her words would anger him. Perhaps evoke some emotion in him.

The dial tone on the other end of the line told her how little 'Mossad's Daughter' now meant to Israel and Eli David.

Light-headed and feeling unshed tears, Ziva turned off the phone and handed back to Kort before picking up the documents and running her index finger over the cover of the passport, tracing the emblem.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were dry and her decision made,

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

* * *


	20. Chapter 20

* * *

A/N- Sorry about the delay. Thank-you for the reviews

* * *

The moment Special Agent Gibbs stepped from the elevator into the squad room, he wanted to turn right around and go home again.  
Francine, the secretary, nearly knocked him back into the metal doors when she jumped him,

"Thank _God_. We've been getting calls from outside agencies all morning; they all want a brief on the situation, every two-bit hack in the media keeps ringing and asking questions about the Potomac situation. The Secretary of the Navy demands to be kept in the loop on all decisions regarding Ziva David and you aren't to speak to Mossad without consulting him or his office first"

Taking a sip from his coffee cup, Jethro wondered if he _couldn't_ sneak back out, or order Ducky to take charge. But he wouldn't do that to Ducky, even if he dealt with politicians and journalists far better than him, it wasn't a job he'd wish on his worst enemy.

Acting Director of NCIS.

Some days he hated his years of experience and unquestionable loyalty.

Ignoring Francine, who was still talking at a million miles an hour, Gibbs strode straight past his bullpen, unnerved by its emptiness. McGee was stationed back at his home, awaiting Ziva's possible return. DiNozzo had followed Ziva and Abby was downstairs, probably hacking into the CIA to find out what they wanted with Ziva.

Ziva, Ziva, Ziva.

Gibbs had known for years the danger of allowing his team to become so dependent on one another. Yes, it made them the best of the best; able to read one another with the barest of glances and to perform each others tasks without the slightest of trouble, but when one of them left they became completely dysfunctional, well more so than usual anyway. They were more reliant on each other than blood kin and he knew he had none other than himself to blame, for being the first to start the chain of surrogacy.

But Abby was the exact age his Kelly would have been and..._sometimes_ when she looked at him a certain way, he saw his daughter again.

"Oh and Director Vance's wife is waiting for you in your office...she insisted on talking to you"

Leroy Jethro Gibbs froze on the first level of the stairs leading up to the MTAC gallery and stared at the young woman, "_What?!_"

She shrunk from the surprise in his tone, "Well, she showed up this morning and begged me to let her into the office and I didn't see the harm..."

Letting the wife of a potential suspect into a potential crime scene was idiotic on a grand scale, but if any wife of a suspect had to be let into the office, he was glad it was Delilah Vance.

She was an honest woman, from the moment he'd met her he'd known she had integrity and principles that nothing could convince her to betray and she obviously adored her children with every inch of her being.

Sighing he finished his coffee and handed it to the secretary.

"Refill" he ordered, finishing the trek to his temporary office.

If he'd been able to get away with it he would have shifted everything down to his bullpen.

* * *

Trent Maxwell Kort had just struck gold.

He'd got the kind of opportunity that few got in their lifetimes.

He'd suspected that Eli David had privately renounced his daughter; she had been left to rot in a cell in Somalia after all. But to have refused her any Mossad assistance, or to even take her call, that was better than anything Kort could have wished for.

The look on Ziva David's face as she hung up the phone had told him more than words could say.

She had clutched the bribery he had offered her; the American documents as though they were a life line and began talking.

He was glad he had planted a wire on himself before coming to meet her today, she spoke too quickly for him to keep up and not everything she said was comprehensible or in English, but he was willing to bet his life that in amongst the babble were little gems that would give the CIA bargaining chips in the world of International Intelligence.

Like a balloon that had been pierced with a needle, she deflated gradually, her speech becoming slower and more understandable until she stopped altogether. A look of stunned horror and devastation crossed her face and she gripped the documents all the harder.

The documents that, with one word, Kort could render into useless plastic.

"Thank-you Ms David" he stood and opened the office door, leading her stumbling from the building.

His agents were waiting in the hallway, each not having stopped until they'd collected satisfactory evidence for him, with a quick gesture they fell back, waiting patiently for his next order.

It was really a fiasco, but as he stepped into the elevator he knew that he couldn't have risked delaying his interrogation with David any longer.

Following torture, even the strongest of soldiers and agents had only a short window of time after their release before the normal acute stress response or PTSD set in and their testimony wouldn't stand in a court of law. She was gently rocking now, her hands trembling so violently that she nearly dropped her passport on the elevator floor.

Kort pitied her.

He remembered the first time he had met Ziva David, in Amsterdam, following a major arms dealer from Italy. She had seemed like a diamond to him, indestructible, cold but with a barely hidden fire, he'd imagined taking her back to his hotel room and discovering how passionate she truly was.

Unfortunately she had shown no interest in him and after working on a separate Mossad mission with her, he decided that she was too remote to be worth the trouble.

He'd once visualised cutting her open to see if she bled ice.

But when they reached the car park, Kort knew that if he cut her this very moment, her blood would be red and warm.

* * *

"Ziva!"

Rather rudely- and possibly deliberately- Anthony DiNozzo pushed past him to grip Ziva by her left arm, a gesture that both offered comfort and the illusion that the receiver was still standing under her own strength.

When DiNozzo had socked him, following the La Grenouille debacle, Kort hadn't even had the time to form a fist before Ziva had appeared at Tony's side, her hand resting gently on his back, the warning clear.  
_  
'You hurt him I'll hurt you'_

DiNozzo was wearing a similar look now, though slightly more mutinous. Without even asking, he steered Ziva away towards his car, tenderly lowering her into the passenger seat and casting Kort one more withering, hateful glare before climbing into the driver's seat and speeding from the parking lot of the embassy.

Kort didn't know where Anthony DiNozzo was taking Ziva and frankly he didn't care, he had everything he could possibly need to maintain the CIA's powerful position in the current war on terror.

Hell, he could take down Mossad itself now, if he so wished.

* * *

Palmer was starving.

He'd woken up this morning with a craving for mushroom ravioli. He had arrived at work anticipating his lunch hour before spotting the media crew, even larger than yesterday, covering all entrances to the Navy Yard.

By sheer miracle and his identification alone, he had managed to get into the Navy Yard, but he had been warned by security that they weren't letting people out. Conspiracy theorists and general anarchists had been up all night and apparently had a major protest planned for midday.

It had got to the point that NCIS and the Navy Yard as a whole, was operating on skeleton crew, all unnecessary personnel told to remain at home.

To make matters worse the vending machine was broken and it was more than his life was worth to be caught going through DiNozzo's junk food stash.

And he was pretty sure Abby had already raided it.

Around one in the afternoon, after Ducky had been whisked upstairs by a summons from Gibbs, Palmer had decided that he was going to risk it.

He was going to sneak out of the Navy Yard and get his mushroom ravioli- or die trying.

Except the phone in autopsy had chosen that exact moment to ring.

"Palmer" an insistent voice attacked him from the other end of the line,

"Tony...uh" Palmer looked around for the absent Ducky, even though common sense told him that he was nowhere near him. However, he was certain the entire team was under strict orders to alert Gibbs the moment Tony or Ziva called in.

"We need a van to bring Ziva into NCIS" Tony continued, either not noticing or not caring about the hesitation in Jimmy's voice,

"Something without windows and clearance to be driven straight into the garage"

Palmer had worked with the field team long enough to know that questioning any of their snap, impulse decisions could result in a headache, if not  
from a Gibbs style head-slap than from the insensible illogical explanation that they deemed as satisfactory arguments.

He sometimes wondered if they didn't deliberately make themselves as confusing as possible just so people would give up and let them have their own way.

"Tony there's more media and protestors outside the Navy yard then there are at Gay marriage rights gatherings! How the hell are we supposed to get a van out there, let alone Ziva back in?"

"_Dammit Palmer!_" Jimmy jumped and held the phone away from him to protect his ears, _"I haven't slept in twenty-eight hours, I have a huge headache, FBI Agent Sacks is tailing my car and Ziva wants to speak to Gibbs…right now I would like nothing more than to hit something, am I making myself clear?"  
_  
Though Tony rarely got seriously angry with anyone, in fact Palmer had never seen him abuse someone who hadn't provoked him first; he had seen enough of the man to know that in this mood, a retreat was the best option.

"I'll see what I can do" Palmer promised, wondering how the hell he was going to get a van past the disgruntled security guards and an angry mob.

* * *

"Thank-you"

With a sigh of annoyance, Tony snapped his phone shut and leant back against the driver's seat of his new mustang. He heard a moan of protest and quickly looked over to see Ziva rocking backwards and forwards, causing enough movement for her seatbelt to have jammed.

Carefully, he reached over and released the tight hold on her, allowing her enough movement.

"There you go Ziva" he whispered gently but received no response.

It was if Ziva David had disappeared and all he had been left with was an empty tormented shell.

She had started shaking almost as soon as he'd started the car and they'd pulled over twice so she could be sick, the toiletries he'd brought her only that morning coming into quick use. She hadn't told him what had happened and he had been afraid to ask, but he couldn't help but put the puzzle pieces together.

Kort had taken Ziva to the Israeli Embassy, where there had been several federal agents running in and out of the building, most of them leading people away in handcuffs. Tony hadn't been allowed into the building, but two hours later when Ziva had stumbled out, she had been clutching several documents in her hands. When he had pulled over the first time and helped her onto the nature strip so she could be sick, he had brushed the hair from her face and tried to ease the papers from her hands. She had torn herself away and refused to let him touch them, but he had recognised the colours and designs.

Somewhere along the way, Ziva had likely traded information for a green card.

Tony could only guess as to what that information was, he was certain that Ziva had world-wide access to Intel that would make the American agencies drool, but he knew that if he were the one in the interrogation chair he would be asking questions about Mossad.

Asking Ziva to betray the people she had believed in, had worked with, had possibly loved and trusted with her life.

This would explain why Ziva was suffering so much emotionally.

A horn blared and Tony looked down the alleyway where he had parked to see a dark blue NCIS prison van reversing in, it stopped and Palmer tumbled from the driver's seat. Tony felt one weight lift from his shoulders and another one settle there just as quickly. Climbing from his mustang he met Palmer halfway down the alley, slipping his glasses on and waiting patiently while the younger man waved enthusiastically to Ziva.

"Hey Tony?"

He looked down to see Palmer's smile now had an edge to it, an uncertainty as his wave slowed,

"What's up with Ziva?"

"Nothing, she's perfectly fine" Tony snapped, his own worry making his temper short,

"She just wants to give Gibbs a SIT-REP"

"Okay" Palmer allowed, backtracking to the van and sliding open the back door,

"You need help?"

Tony shook his head violently, not wanting to humiliate Ziva, because he knew her and knew that she would hate anyone seeing how weakened she was at the moment.

Opening the passenger door, he bent over til he could press his mouth to her ear,

"Time to go David," he exhaled, "Are you ok to walk?"

His took a jagged breath and felt his throat tighten when Ziva could only shake her head, her eyes watering with shame.

"Tony..." she whimpered, her voice thick with exhaustion and despair, "Help me"

Instinct told him that had he been anyone else, she would have walked the distance from his car to the van, even if it had killed her.

He wanted nothing more than to kiss her again.

Instead he slipped an arm around her waist and lifted her from the car, holding her against his side, lowering her just enough to the ground so that it would be difficult to see that he was carrying all her weight.

She assisted in the facade by running her hand through his hair and resting her head on his shoulder, from a distance they would look like an affectionate couple taking a stroll.

At least until they reached the van and he was able to block her from view, lifting her into the vehicle he slid the door closed behind him and they settled onto the benches meant for prisoners.

"Ready to go Palmer" he called, and the engine started, sending slight vibrations throughout the back.

"We'll be there soon" he promised Ziva as she leant her head against the cool side,

"Thank-you" she whispered, reaching over to clasp his hand with her own.

* * *


	21. Chapter 21

* * *

A/N- Lots of Vance next chapter

* * *

"My husband is not a _murderer_ Agent Gibbs"

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs took the seat at the table opposite Delilah Vance,

"Sometimes those you love the most can deceive you" he muttered neutrally, taking another sip of his coffee. She looked up from her hands, clasped on the table in front of her, eyes red and swollen.

"I am not being deceived, I know Leon, as a husband, as a father and as a man, he is not _capable_ of murder"

Except he had been a soldier, Gibbs mused, and somewhere in the line of duty, he would have taken a life. Some people believed that soldiers were more likely to commit murder, especially if they'd seen battle, especially if they'd seen the result of their attack.

It was always easier after the first.

Fortunately most were able to distinguish the fine line between duty and playing God, but Gibbs saw first-hand everyday how many people did not.

"Have you spoken to Leon since yesterday morning?" he asked her gently, hoping the use of the Director's name would create a less formal setting and allow her to open up. She shook her head and choked on a sob,

"No...the last time I saw him, he kissed me and the kids goodbye and went to work...God...I've sent the kids to my sister's in Miami, I've told her not to let them watch the news in case it specifically mentions him"

She broke down again and he knew that she wouldn't give him any more information.

"Leon Vance is a person of interest in an ongoing investigation," he told her gently,

"If you do hear from him, please let us know immediately"

He would have McGee put a wire tap on the Vance household phones later that day.

He gave her a smile as she stood to leave, he made to touch her elbow but she pulled back at him, her eyes alight with distrust, sensing the falsity  
behind his attempt to comfort her.

That was what one day in the Director's chair had done to him.

* * *

Ziva's already frail nerves shredded as another object hit the side of the van, the noise rocketing in the tiny space where she and Tony huddled, yet it was quickly drowned out by the screams of hatred and fury. She focused her eyes on the sliding door across from her, the only direct possible entrance for the angry mass outside, she tried to reassure herself that they couldn't get in, the door was locked and bulletproof. It was small comfort when another object, heavier this time, pounded against the side.

Next to her, Tony cursed under his breath, and gripped her all the tighter, the moment the first missile had hit he had pushed her into a crouching position, guarding her as much as possible from the attacks that couldn't possibly reach them.

"Drive faster Palmer...If we run over someone, they're the one to blame!"

"If I run over someone they're going to riot"

"They're already rioting, that's why they're here!"

Suddenly they heard the all-too-familiar sound of gunfire, thundering in their ears and, for a moment, stunning the crowd outside into silence. Terror made the decision easy for Palmer, he slammed his foot down on the gas and they nearly mowed down the security gate and the guards as they shot into the Navy Yard. Ziva was able to determine how far they travelled by the sounds around the van, or rather the lack of sounds. She could barely hear the protesters as they slowed and eventually stopped altogether, the slight vibrations of the van cutting out,

"We're here" Palmer announced unnecessarily, leaping from the driver's seat.

Ziva slowly stretched her legs as Tony unlocked the door, turning back to her before he opened it,

"You think you can walk?" he asked quietly and she nodded, doubting that he would be able to carry her all the way up to the squad room.

Nevertheless, he took her left hand, grasping it firmly in his own as he helped her from the vehicle, but releasing it when they realised that they were surrounded by fellow agents and workers. She floundered for a moment and wondered if he was embarrassed, but then cast the thought aside as ludicrous; likely he remembered her opinion on public displays of affection. She considered love to be a private matter.

"Ziva!"

She flinched involuntarily at the sound of her own name and looked around for the potential threat, relaxing only slightly when she saw Nicky Jardine approaching quickly.

Jardine, as the team referred to her, had obsessive compulsive disorder and couldn't stand even the slightest hint of germs, last Christmas Ziva and Tony had brought the woman some industrial strength hand sanitiser as a proper gift and received a heart-felt thanks. Despite her little quirk though, Jardine was a good agent and instinctively polite,

So Ziva could only imagine how terrible she must look for the smile to fall from Jardine's face and the woman to falter in her steps, an expression of pure horror fixing itself on her face.

Ziva knew she couldn't blame her.

She had been beautiful once. She had prided herself on her symmetrical features, her smooth skin and her naturally lovely appearance; she had relished not having to endure hours of expensive treatments just so she could feign beauty for a few minutes as some women did. When she was a teenager and had begun to notice the compliments she received, and how some of her friends weren't told how beautiful _they_ were, she had started to take pleasure in her looks.

Her father had warned that such actions were sinful and would get her into trouble.

He had been right.

The men who had held her prisoner had admired her pretty face, had told her how long it had been since they had seen a woman, especially one as lovely as her. But then they had grown bored and decided that she didn't need her beauty because she wouldn't leave Somalia alive anyway.  
They had begun with their hands and then finished with knives.

Ziva knew that she shouldn't be so vain as to care what people thought of her, she hadn't before, but since she had become aware of her surroundings again, she had avoided her reflection as much as possible, even when she entered bathrooms. It was bad enough that men as strong as Kort and Gibbs couldn't fix their eyes on her ruined face for more than an instant; she didn't need to know the extent of her mutilations now.

The only comfort she knew was that Tony didn't even seem to notice the scars that ran over her face, of course he would have had time to study them while she lay in her hospital bed, but it would be impossible for him to have accustomed himself to them in such a short period of time. As far as she could determine, he simply cared too much for her to be troubled by them, still seeing her as the woman who had been his partner and friend.

That alone made her able to cast Jardine a comforting smile,

"Shalom Nicky" she whispered, flooding her voice with understanding and forgiveness.

"I'm...glad...you're back. Welcome!" Jardine stuttered over her sentence, clearly determined to find the words that would upset Ziva the least.

Fortunately Tony had already begun herding her towards the garage elevator,

"Meeting with Gibbs" was the excuse he hurled at anyone who threw them a glance, but most of the people seemed to be turning away, or avoiding their eyes. She begun to wish that she had asked Tony to take her back to his place instead of NCIS, wish that she could trade an afternoon of movies and rest over her confession to Gibbs.

She couldn't however, she was all too aware of how weak her current position was, that all that stood between Gibbs sending her straight back to Israel was Gibbs already broken affection for her and Tony's unclear feelings. Citizenships meant nothing if nobody cared whether you lived or died, a Mossad agent knew that better than most. In 1960, Mossad had discovered a Nazi war criminal living in Argentina and had kidnapped him, taking him back to Israel for trial and execution, with only the outrage of the UN Security Council saving Joseph Mengele from a similar fate.

If Ziva were to be abducted tonight and carried back to Israel, with her recent treachery enough for her to hang...who would lift a hand to stop it?

If she was a re-instated NCIS agent, any actions against her would be to cause an international incident between America and Israel. Something that she doubted Eli David could risk, not with his daughter having been rescued by the CIA instead of Mossad, even a deputy director had to have a private life above reproach- that was why Tali-

No, she wouldn't go there, not now. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head as the elevator doors opened and kept pace with Tony as they walked across the floor, conversations stopping dead as they passed.

She jumped as Tony threw a casual arm over her shoulders and assumed he was lending her his strength again, except she saw Gibbs standing on the stairwell, overlooking the bullpen.

She smiled as she saw him, but her smile faltered when his face remained impassive. She inched closer to Tony, keeping her eyes locked with Gibbs as they climbed the stairs, clenching the documents tighter in her hand.

"Hey boss" Tony greeted casually, "Ziva…and I wanted to talk to you, which office you want to use?"

Gibbs was still watching her with his inscrutable gaze, "Director's" he decided, turning away to bound up the steps, leaving her and Tony to make their way up, slowly and alone.

Only now was Ziva able to realise that the relationship between Gibbs and Tony had sustained some damage, but she wasn't concerned. Gibbs had left her in Israel because she had tried to make him choose between them, Tony was his son, in a way she would never be his daughter.

Besides she had more pressing issues to worry about, she was starting to shake again and couldn't quite keep her eyes focused.

* * *

"Oh my!"  
Ducky stepped back in shock as Jethro and Anthony, half carried, half dragged Ziva into the office, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Is she alright?" he asked unnecessarily, hurrying to her side as they lay her onto the couch, but Gibbs waved him off as he went to check her vitals,

"It's not medical Duck," he determined, "Emotional...she's having a panic attack"

"Mossad ninja style" Tony grunted, lifting Ziva's head onto his lap and pressing his mouth to her ear.

Ducky found himself taking refuge in his analytical mind as he watched young Anthony whispering soothingly to the young woman, not wanting to, once again, be the unwelcome audience to the intimacy between them. He would have rather left the office altogether and waited outside, except young Ziva's condition was worrying him. She was still recovering from her previous experience and the exertion of a panic attack could only hinder her healing,

"Pass me the trashcan Duck" Gibbs ordered suddenly as Ziva began coughing,

"She's not gonna be sick boss" Anthony reassured him, lifting his eyes up to stare at them both,

"She emptied her stomach on the way over here, twice! Had to break a few road rules to get her out of my car in time,"

"_Really_ DiNozzo!" Gibbs cried in exasperation, "Your car?!"

"Well...Ziva would have felt bad if she'd ruined the upholstery"

It was on the tip of Ducky's tongue to warn Anthony about the dangers of attachment to material objects, except he knew that it would be sheer hypocrisy, he treasured his vintage Morgan, Gibbs had built his car from scratch and Tony's car was the exact same used in…one of his favourite movies.

"Gibbs…" they all focused their attention on Ziva,

"Yeah…I'm here Ziva" he reached over and took her hand,

"Kort had me call Israel…had me call Eli"

She broke down then and Ducky found himself balling his hands into fists feeling an unusual strain of violence well within him.

"I think I have been blacklisted by Mossad"

By her own father.

Donald Mallard knew for a fact that if he had ever had a biological daughter or son for that matter, he would never have done such a thing to them.

For that matter, he would never have done such a thing to Ziva or Abby, his _adopted_ grand-daughters.

"Just rest now David" Gibbs ordered, "Come on…I'll take you home"

"I have no home" she whispered as Gibbs led her from the office,

"All I have are useless papers"

"Anthony" Ducky called quietly as the younger man made to follow the pair.

"Might I have a word?" he asked gesturing to the table, seeing the exasperated look,

"Now Duck?!" he whined, sounding much like his former fun-loving self,

"Jethro insisted that I be the one to do this" he informed him, settling down onto one of the chairs,

"Unfortunately we need to have a talk about a delicate issue"

Whether from the tone of his voice or the slight blush, Anthony caught on quickly,

"Not the sex talk!"

"Yes I'm afraid" Ducky would have laughed at the horrified look on young Anthony's face were matters not so serious.

"Come on Duck…I'm the last person on the team who needs the sex talk…McGee on the other hand…"

"Timothy is not the one whom Jethro and I have reason to believe is in a fledging relationship with a rather distressed young woman"

That got Tony's attention and he sat down opposite Ducky,

"What do I need to know?"

Ducky sighed and removed his glasses, "That whatever Ziva has encountered over the last few months of her life, it is likely she will suffer emotional and psychological trauma as well as the physical. Though she seems to draw much comfort from your presence…Jethro and I are concerned that if you were to indulge in a…romantic relationship with her that it would cause her greater mental instability…"

"So" Tony interrupted, his voice tinged with bitterness "essentially dating me would drive the woman crazy"

"At this current stage yes" Ducky allowed, ingoring the joke

"Hence the reason she will be staying with Jethro until we are sure she no longer suffers from post traumatic stress disorder"

Tony leapt to his feet at that and paced the room, agitated.

"I want her with me Duck…she doesn't feel safe around the boss man, she trusts me _not_ to hurt her"

"Even after Michael Rivkin?" the older man asked astounded,

"I think because of him"

"Regardless" Ducky stood up, "Anthony believe me when I say that I know Ziva to be a proud young woman, she will not wish for a man she cares deeply for to be witness to her suffering over the next few months"

"Months?!" he looked at him with disbelief, "You want me to stay away from Ziva for months!"

Ducky could only nod.

* * *

A/N- Tell me what you think


	22. Chapter 22

A/N- Said lots of Vance but sorry next chapter  
_

* * *

_

_Thirty-nine days following Ziva's return to America_

"Boss, its Wednesday"

Gibbs involuntarily shuddered at the cheer in DiNozzo's tone. Sitting in the Director's office, slaving through a ridiculous amount of paperwork, and slowly going insane, Gibbs had almost welcomed the distraction of Tony barging into the room.

Except it was a Wednesday.

Any other day of the week and Tony would be doing a coffee run, inviting him to lunch or asking him to cut through some official red tape for him.

Except it was a Wednesday.

Which in DiNozzo land meant visitation rights to Ziva David.

Having known that he could just as soon keep the young man away as stop an avalanche with a Q-tip, Gibbs had decided to grant Tony one night a week to come over to his house for dinner, during which time he could see as much as Ziva as he wanted or she allowed.

One night a week was all Gibbs allowed though, because any more than that and Tony would begin to notice the drastic changes to his former partner.

Ziva hadn't been with him for two days before she'd truly begun to suffer from Post traumatic stress disorder.

It had crashed down upon them suddenly; she refused to sleep at night, choosing day time instead because, theoretically, no idiot would attack a Marine neighbourhood during the day.

She refused to let Gibbs turn on the heating in his own home, cutting the wiring and opening all the windows to let the winter air in, because warmth reminded her of Somalia.

She was hyper-vigilant; the slightest rustle of wind through his garden would have her up on her feet and at a window, watching for intruders.

She'd been forced to accustom herself to the natural sounds in his basement at night, though she refused to go down there, hating the smell of dust.

But he wasn't allowed to close the door to the basement, or any doors for that matter, thankfully his neighbours had long since become accustomed to his odd manners and didn't think to question a young woman prowling around his yard at night, dead-locking the back door and then opening it again, leaving it ajar lest she be trapped inside.

It had become problematic when Fornell had dropped by and finding the door locked had assumed something was wrong, he'd taken his gun from its holster and, only by a miracle, had dodged the knife Ziva had hurled at his head. Gibbs had been forced to drag her to her bedroom and disarm her before she had become truly aware of her surroundings again, but she had refused to speak to him for twenty-four hours, not even leaving her room for dinner.

Having fought in every war, skirmish and 'incident' since Vietnam right up until he joined NCIS, Gibbs had dealt with his fair share of PTSD, never his own, but Ziva certainly wasn't the first houseguest to stay with him until the disease passed.

The only problem was that they had to reach the thirty-day mark, have her suffering the symptoms for one month exactly before she could be treated. Not even Ducky would budge on that requirement, except to prescribe her some over the counter vitamins to keep her physically healthy, except that she refused any food or drink that hadn't been prepared by her own hand.

Wednesday's were another matter though.

Knowing that Tony would be there to see her, Ziva made a visible effort to feign normality, showering and changing her clothes, practising having the doors unlocked all day so that he wouldn't suspect they were ever bolted.  
She would smile, lean against Tony's body and ask him a barrage of questions regarding the team, questions that only the night before Gibbs would write up for her, handing her the paper so she could rehearse them and be ready for the social occasion, reminding her also that she couldn't carry weapons to the dinner table.

Tony could never know that his short five hour weekly visit required days of preparation before and days of recovery after.

But Jethro was sure that without the visit, Ziva would allow herself to over the precipice of sanity.

"Boss?..."

"I heard you DiNozzo" Gibbs said, draining his coffee cup, and standing up,

"Grab your gear, be there at seven"

"Don't suppose I cou-..."

"No!" Gibbs interrupted harshly, cutting the thought dead before it was even fully formed. Hell would freeze over before he allowed DiNozzo to come earlier or stay the night,

Especially with memories of waking up to find Ziva standing over him holding a steak knife still fresh in his mind.

* * *

"What d'ya mean no, Tony?"

McGee winced as Abby shouted into the phone, her voice seeming louder with the unusual absence of music in her lab.

"I haven't seen Ziva since she shacked up at Casa Gibbs!" she protested, stamping her foot in that adorable way of hers, "I miss her!"

Pursing his lips, McGee stood just inside the doorway and tried to put the conversation together, even as he was missing Tony's side of it.

"Well did he give a reason?"

He actually scoffed at this, knowing Abby to be the only person at NCIS who would ask that question. Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't give reasons to anyone that couldn't order him to, whether because of his days in the navy or just because he didn't want to, you couldn't get an explanation out of him for love or money if you were his inferior.

Abby jumped at the noise and whirled around her eyes widening in surprise at seeing him there. She wiggled her fingers and turned back to the computers and her phone. Her black miniskirt swishing with the movement and showing even more of her thigh, McGee could only lick his lips and close his eyes, ordering himself not to remember the feel of that flesh under his hand, or the way her breathing quickened in anticipation when he traced his fingers across her skin.  
_  
'Tim...' Abby moaned his name as she arched under him, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight, flushed and glistening with sweat. Grinning, he leant down, pressing his lips to her ear,  
"Are you ready Abs?"  
She whimpered in response, her large eyes closing as she dug her nails into the silk of her coffin bed, her beautiful black hair falling into her face,  
"Tim...Tim...Tim..."_

"Timmy!"

McGee cried out as she punched him in the arm, his memory being replaced by the image of Abby standing right in front of him, her mouth wriggling in curiosity and her head tilted to the side.

A rather anti-climatic ending to what had been a rather pleasant flashback.

Thankfully Abby didn't have the ability to read his mind, otherwise he would definitely be in trouble,

"Tony says he tried to ask Gibbs, but boss-man said no" Abby sulked, pouting as she crossed her arms,

"And he won't let us crash dinner in case Gibbs removes his visiting privileges"

"Oh" Tim was glad Abby had decided to give him a recap so he wouldn't have to try and bluff his way through the conversation,

"Well maybe next week..." he offered with feigned hope,

"That's what you said last week McGee" she rolled her eyes and turned her back, holding out her arms. Dutifully, he stepped forward and helped her from her lab coat, letting her stride across the floor to grab her faux fur jacket and tin lunchbox.

"You know I'm beginning to wonder if Ziva's even alive" she cried wildly,

"How do we know Gibbs and Tony haven't killed her and buried her under Gibbs' boat?!" she stipulated. Thankfully McGee knew this was simply a short burst of caffeine induced hysteria and didn't take the accusation personally,

"Uh because Tony wouldn't let anyone harm a hair on her head and Gibbs wouldn't want to have to build the boat around a corpse"

"Oh yeah" she bit her lip and scurried over to him, "huh"

"Abs" trying to be casual about it, he threw an arm over her shoulders and pulled her close to him,

"I'm sure we'll be allowed to see Ziva again soon and everything will be fine...I'll even take you out for dinner tonight if you want"

They reached the elevator, Abby was resting her head against his shoulder and innocently resting most of her left side against his,

"No thanks...I gotta call Sarah anyway, I owe her and Emily a lunch or dinner"

He'd stepped onto the elevator before he'd caught on, "Wait...my Sarah and Emily? My sister and mum?!"

She nodded, "Yeah, we've been going out for lunch a couple of times this past month"

Confused was one of the things McGee was feeling, "Why?"

He didn't see Abby roll her eyes at his cluelessness.

* * *

"I can do this...I can do this...I can do this...I can do this"

Taking a deep breath, Ziva used a wooden spoon to lift the lid of the pot of water on the stove.

The steam escaped...  
_  
The heat was unrelenting. To breathe was to burn her throat and lungs, sweat coursed down her face, adding to the foul stench that was her beaten, bruised, unwashed body. Yet she could do nothing but breathe and sweat, to attempt to do anything else would be to die.  
Just this morning her captors had come up with a new punishment, a new cruelty to degrade her body and further weaken her mind. Tying her hair back with a piece of loose string and stripping her naked, they had bound her hands and feet and dragged her outside to where eight crudely fashioned spears had been fixed in the sand. The light was blinding and she was barely able to see, even when one of them came up and slapped something onto her body, rubbing it over every inch of her and laughing as he enjoyed the experience. The smell was familiar, but it was only after they forced her into a kneeling position between the spears that she figured out what it was.  
Cooking fat.  
She had actually welcomed the chill night winds, the chance for her burnt and roasted body to know some small relief...  
_  
"No"

Taking a step back from the pot and inhaling deeply. Ziva brought herself back to the present. The water was boiling and she threw the pasta in, thankful that the dish was one of the easiest in the world. Spaghetti Bolognese, loved by children and Anthony DiNozzo, it had been his favourite dish since he was about six. Gibbs had brought home that piece of information on Monday night.

"David"

She looked up as Gibbs came through the front door, running a cursory eye over her and the kitchen.

"Shalom Gibbs" she forced a small, fake smile onto her lips, "How was your day?"

"Paperwork" he murmured, peering into the Bolognese, "You?"

Relatively housebound until she could start the treatment Gibbs was convinced she needed, she knew Gibbs was asking her as a diversionary tactic, to give himself the time to check her cooking.

Make sure she was not using laundry powder instead of salt or something ridiculous like that.

She understood that Gibbs had dealt with POW's before and people who had been tortured, he expected her to be unstable to the point of being dangerous and fair enough, she did have some issues to work through. But she wasn't completely helpless. Yes she did have trouble sleeping at night, and she was being over-vigilant at the moment, her flashbacks were a slight issue and she could not decide yet whether she preferred open or locked doors, but she was a former Mossad assassin. She did not believe in Psychotherapy or mood altering drugs- unless of course they were being used on the enemy- she considered meditation to be a good form of relaxation and had used it to chase away the nightmares, but she would soon recover under the power of her own mind.

Certainly knowing Tony was coming helped.

His visits were the highlight of her week, she lived from Wednesday to Wednesday, when she could be held in his arms and chat with him, knowing he didn't see her as bordering crazy or damaged.

Of course, the way he held her tight against him and the long, daring looks he gave her when Gibbs wasn't watching helped as well.

A real smile graced Ziva's lips now as she untied her apron, leaving it on the kitchen counter, Gibbs watched her like a hawk, staring with blatant concern before he heard the sound of the car pulling up to the curb.

By that time Ziva was already at the front door, her smile becoming wider as Tony bounded up the front lawn and caught her up in his arms, whirling her around quickly before holding her tight against him.

"I missed you Ziva" he breathed, not showing any sign of pulling away, Ziva tilted her head backwards to take in his handsome face,

"And I you…tell me, how is everyone?"

Releasing her so they could trudge back into the house, Tony began, as he always did, with a story about the misadventures of Abby and McGee.

Laughing, Ziva stole a quick glance to Gibbs who still wore his scrutinizing gaze, but she couldn't be sure if it was concern or disapproval in the older mans eyes.

Maybe both.

* * *


	23. Chapter 23

A/N - Quick short chapter

* * *

He knew he was the risks he was taking, simply by being in the neighbourhood, but he truly had nothing left to lose. This wasn't the first time he had done this anyway.

Crouched in the snow, behind the hedges Agent Gibbs grew in his backyard, he was able to see straight through into the warmly lit house, able to watch the triad as they sat down to dinner, able to watch hatefully as his enemies dined without a care in the world.

If he hadn't been certain the glass was bullet-resistant, or that they would have detected his footstep on the back porch, he would have taken out his gun, stormed in there and shot them all dead.

But only one of the three needed to die.

Unfortunately she would be the hardest to kill.

For the last week, he had been running surveillance on Gibbs home; coming at times when he was certain the sniper wouldn't be there, to try and reach the woman. But to his dismay he had discovered that she rarely left the safety of the house and never went beyond the property perimeters and several times even came out into the yard and acting as though she had heard or seen him. Thankfully the woman seemed to tally his errors up as her own imagination but would dart back inside before he could even ready the gun.

The sniper rifle.

The one Ari Haswari had nearly killed Agent Gibbs with, the one kept under the work bench in his basement, next to an ancient computer. He had stolen it as a means of poetic justice, he would kill Haswari's killer with the gun that was owned by the rogue operatives intended victim.

And once she was dead. The evidence capable of destroying him would be lost and he could escape overseas, safe in the knowledge he would never wear worse than the title of murderer.

But first he needed the opportunity.

* * *

Two hours later, when he had lost feeling in his extremities and only his training kept him alert, the screen door slid open and two people stepped out into the chilly winter air.

Anthony DiNozzo and Ziva David.

He'd been stunned into disbelief to hear that Agent DiNozzo had broken NCIS regulations to go over to the Mossad Liaison Officer's apartment and warn her about her detected treachery, confronted Michael Rivkin and emerged from a fight with the trained killer alive. To look at the man wasn't to see someone capable of those acts, but he'd since discovered, having watched the video of the interrogation between him and Eli David, that the smart ass mouth was deceptive, containing an intelligent, quick mind underneath. Revising his opinion of the agent, he saw a man who rarely went into a situation without having considered some plan prior.

Watching him now, he saw, not to any great surprise, the silhouette of the man close the miniscule gap between himself and Officer David grab her into his arms.

Their mouths fused passionately and they became a bundle of arms and legs as the tall man reached down to pick the woman up and push her against the wall of the house, her legs going about his waist and his hands travelling to indecent places. He'd been surveying the house long enough to know that this wasn't out of the ordinary, the agent was around at odd times during the week, always appearing when agent Gibbs wasn't home and usually engaging in foreplay with Officer David. Oddly enough, their clothes never came off. Being thorough, he had seen the FBI footage of their undercover mission and seen how they had used the flimsy excuse of playing a married couple to have constant sex, yet watching them now, one would think they were both virgins. Over-eager certainly but cautious about the matter.

He started as he realised they had brought their make-out session to an abrupt end and appeared to be arguing.

And then his moment came.

Pushing violently against DiNozzo, instead of returning inside, his target stormed down the steps into the garden below, weaving between the flowers and box hedges, making an irregular pattern.

Determinedly he prepped the rifle and aimed right for her heart. Blind to all else, he flicked the safety off and grinned as she turned and met his eye, her features alight with surprise.

He fired the bullet.

* * *

After dinner, Gibbs had retreated to the privacy of his basement and resumed working on his boat. It was customary behaviour with him, something that anyone who knew him expected, even when they were having dinner at his house. Granted not many people had dinner at his house.

He'd been sanding the stem when the shots were fired; he stopped and stood stock still upon hearing the first, and grabbed his spare gun from the work bench when four quickly followed in succession. Bursting out his back door into the cold night, his heart stopped when he saw the tableau before him.

Ziva David lay on the ground, Anthony DiNozzo knelt over her, rocking back and forth, he was cradling her in his arms.

She wasn't moving.

"Where?!" Gibbs bellowed savagely, already resolved to hunt down the man that had murdered his daughter.

Looking up through watery eyes, Tony pointed south, into the bushes. Crouching slightly and taking the safety off his gun, Gibbs moved towards the hedges and heard the unmistakable sound of a death rattle. Sticking his head over the bush, he saw a dead man still bleeding profusely from the chest. Dressed all in black, he had a scar through one eyebrow and dark skin.

Either way he was definitely dead.

Taking a deep breath, he set the safety back on and turned back to his two agents.

DiNozzo was whispering softly to the body now, kissing her face softly and Gibbs was almost certain that her death had pushed him over the edge.

Clapping him on the shoulder, he headed back inside to call in the circus. The NCIS agents, the medical examiners and the rest of the intruders who would stomp across his yard without any respect and scrutinize every detail of his life without any thought to privacy. DiNozzo he would leave outside with the body for as long as possible, allowing him time to begin saying goodbye, Gibbs knew his young agent would savour the little time he'd had with it later, after the coffin lid closed for the final time.

The body. The body of...

No, he couldn't think of the corpse as the woman it had once been. If he did he wouldn't be able to function, he would just stand over his dining room table and be haunted by memories, by her ghost following him and demanding answers, demanding justice.

That was what had happened with his precious Kate- and it had taken a bullet to set him right again.

The screech of tires against the asphalt alerted him to company, doors slammed and feet padded against the frozen grass to reach his front door.

"Jethro..." Ducky exploded into the room, with Palmer and McGee hot on his heels, the lights that shone through the curtains suggested many more people were arriving.

"Duck" Gibbs found himself speaking slowly, feeling sure that if he opened his mouth he would be sick. That he would have reached the limit.

The unpredictable breaking point for long-time investigators, the body that makes the number too high, the crime-scene that's too disgusting, the criminal whose too monstrous. Once that line was crossed, the investigator lost everything that had made them the best of the best over the years, they became too jaded and bitter to do anything but die.

"Good God..." Ducky whispered, "Please Jethro...just this once...tell me that we haven't lost one of our own"

Before Gibbs could respond Palmer dropped the bags he'd been carrying and pushed past him,

"Tony _don't_!"

Quickly the three men hurried to the door to see Tony lifting Ziva from the ground and moving inside, Palmer skated and skidded to where he was standing and started arguing, gesturing to the ground with a fast-raising voice.

"Ah hell" Gibbs murmured under his breath, wishing Tony had simply stayed where he was so they could have worked around him.

"Boss, Tony's contaminating the crime scene" McGee panicked, falling back on his training and looking to him for instruction.

Treading down the stairs, Gibbs approached the two men as their voice became fiercer and fiercer,

"This is a crime scene Tony...if you move anything it makes it less than pristine and gives the judge a reason to throw the case out of court, you know that!"

"Yeah Palmer and I know that if Ziva spends anymore time on the ground she's going to turn into an iceblock, besides it's an open and shut case, with two agents for witnesses, we hardly need a pristine crime scene!" He finished by shifting his weight, moving Ziva in his arms, rubbing his hands against her exposed forearms.

Obviously relying on his known ability to reach the team member during times of stress or anxiety, Ducky came forward,

"Anthony, I promise I will be as quick as I can, but Ziva needs to go back onto the ground"

"Aw, come on Duck" Tony protested, "At least get a blanket or something to keep her warm"

Gibbs took a jagged breath as Ducky and Palmer paused, realising at the same time as him that Tony was either in shock or suffering a nervous breakdown.

Probably both.

* * *

Sending a perturbed McGee for the blanket, Gibbs stood by as Ducky and Palmer tended first to the dead suspect in the hedge.

A suspect who- now that Gibbs could observe at his leisure, he saw was carrying his rifle,

"Son of a bitch!" he cursed angrily, "That bastard was in my home!"

"You really need to start locking your doors, boss"

He ignored Tony's dig and stared at the rifle that he had known like the back of his hand, the rifle he had assumed Ziva had liberated when every other weapon in his house had gone missing. As per usual with PTSD victims, they tended to store food or supplies nearby to feel safe. So Gibbs hadn't thought to question when the rifle had disappeared the day after his steak knives.

"Good thing Ziva replaced the bullets with blanks though" Tony muttered, almost as if in afterthought.

It took a few moments for the realisation to hit him, but when it did, Gibbs felt his knees go weak,

"_What_ did you say, DiNozzo?"

Turning on his heel, Gibbs bent down in the darkness and pressed his fingers to Ziva's neck, hardly daring to hope. Completely oblivious, Tony kept talking,

"Scared the hell out of me when she went down, took me a few seconds to figure out why there wasn't any blood...poor things just uncons-..."  
_  
WHACK!  
_  
As far as head-slaps went, Gibbs knew this one made the top five. Tony actually pitched forward from the impact and landed hands and knees on the ground, blinking rapidly.

"What was that for?" he complained, touching the back of his head tenderly, but he was ignored. Ziva was stirring and struggling to sit up, muttering in confusion as Gibbs pulled her into his arms, laughing and crying with amazement.

"Oh my girl...oh my girl"

In the distance he could see Shannon and Kelly laughing with joy and applauding him.

* * *

A/N- Next chapter might be soon.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N- Short and sweet

* * *

When Tony carried her through the door and kicked it shut behind him, Ziva felt a measure of relief wash over her, having always enjoyed her privacy and seen large crowds for the potential danger that they held, she relished being able to have a locked door between herself and the world.

The noise created by the various LEO's and civilians was muted and easily tuned out as Tony gently laid her on the bed, propping her head up with pillows. Turning on the bedside lamp, he sat down on the bed and rested an arm on the blankets next to her knees,

"How're you feeling?" he asked, his eyes darting to the area above her left breast where the blank bullet had hit, cautiously she pressed her fingers against her cotton top, feeling no broken bones but wincing at the pain,

"I will live" she assured him, but saw that he was not satisfied. Carefully sitting herself up, Ziva eased her top off and dropped it onto the bed beside her, Tony drew a jagged breath and she followed his gaze, her own eyes widening.

Partially hidden by her bra, a dark purple bruise the size of a large fist marred her olive skin, the cream colouring of the silk making the injury appear all the more hideous.

"Still" she murmured, trying to make light of the situation, "A real bullet would have hurt more"

He did not answer, instead he leaned over and his eyes flickered closed as he kissed the skin over her beating heart. Ziva swallowed and brought her hand to his hair, running her fingers through the dark strands that were so similar in colouring to her own. Clearly seeing that as an invitation, Tony's lips moved higher up her body, up the shoulder blade to her neck, he cupped her head in one hand while he sucked and nibbled her skin.

Shifting closer to her, he leaned his weight forward and she complied, sinking back down against the pillows so he could lie atop her.

"Ziva" he whispered hoarsely, kissing the edge of her lips, "When the gun...I thought I'd lost you"

"I am alive, Tony" she accentuated her claim by entangling his legs with her own and bringing his hand down to feel her heartbeat, "See...strong and regular"

His eyes lit up at that and his trademark cheeky grin spread across his face,

"Let's see if I can't do something about that"

He lowered his head and kissed her again, this time parting her lips and slipping his tongue in to stroke against hers, his large hand slipped under her and ran up her back, massaging the warm skin til it encountered the back of her bra. With a deftness that could have only be gained by experience, Tony unhooked the material and slid it from her body, Ziva shivered feeling equal parts desire and dread, hoping to distract him by slowly unbuttoning his shirt, she reached her free hand out towards the lamp, jumping when he stretched out and stopped her.

"No" he mumbled against her mouth, linking her fingers with his to draw it back, and she tilted her head back and closed her eyes briefly to hide her shame,

"Tony...there are scars..."

"Don't care" he protested still kissing her, his hands squeezing her waist and lifting it to press against him,

"Scars, tattoos, alien markings...don't care, want to see you"

He broke away to breathe and pecked her eyelids, reluctantly she opened them to meet his gaze,

"I want you, Ziva" he whispered, looking at her with a warmth she had only glimpsed before,

"All of you and we've never bothered hiding our imperfections from each other before"

Shifting slightly, despite herself, she felt surprised when she felt his arousal pushing against the denim of his jeans, and the physical evidence of her attractiveness to him made her smile,

"We were not trying to sleep with each other before" she pointed out and he scoffed,

"Speak for yourself David, I've been planning this since you first joined NCIS"

She laughed and drew her hand away from the lamp, running it down Tony's stomach until she found his belt buckle,

"Well if you have waited _that_ long..."

A fist pounding against the door startled them both and Ziva quickly reached under her pillows for her gun while Tony moved to shield her body with his own.

"Let's go DiNozzo" the all-too-familiar voice called through the wood, spoiling the mood,

"You've got an incident report to write up"

Momentarily speechless, Tony only stared at the locked door while Ziva scrambled to get her clothes back on,

"Can it wait?" he called hopefully, even as she reached around him to redo the buttons on his shirt.

"Yeah, it can wait" Gibbs was sounding grumpier by the second, "It can wait while you take a cold shower, put some damn clothes on and get out to my car...it can wait ten minutes!"

Cursing under his breath, Tony looked to Ziva for guidance but she could only shake her head regretfully, unable to see any way to continue what they had begun.

"On it boss"

But Gibbs was not finished, "And the next time you two play grab-ass while I'm at home I'll have you scrub every inch of the evidence locker with your toothbrushes, understood?"

"Yes boss"

* * *

"Well now, I see Anthony was very thorough with you"

Palmer padded across the autopsy floor, watching curiously while Ducky examined the body found in Special Agent Gibbs hedges,

"One to the heart, one to the liver, one to the right lung and one to the stomach...though I don't believe that was his intention" Ducky mused pacing around the table,

"Though our dear Anthony has good marksmanship, I think that it was purely coincidental, more than likely he saw Miss David get hit and acted to eradicate the threat"

"Which he certainly did" Palmer chipped in, his voice bubbly with suppressed laughter. As usual however, his humour was too dark for Doctor Mallard, when he spoke next his voice was deep with disapproval,

"Yes, well I think it's time we get you undressed and cut open, so Gibbs can begin his investigation"

Five minutes later they saw it.

"Oh dear" Ducky announced, observing the left hip closely,

"That is not good" Palmer agreed just as the doors to the autopsy slid open,

"What's not good?" Gibbs demanded, picking up on their consernation and striding up to the table.

"That" Ducky responded, pointing to the black ink tattoo that stood out against the tanned flesh.

Palmer saw Gibbs pale as he recognised the symbols, the six pointed stars and the second most recognised religious symbol of Judaism.

The insignia of the Mossad.

* * *

"Maybe the Kidon should have a new training method" Tony remarked bitterly as he sat at his desk, his hair still damp from the ice cold shower.

"Come to Washington for a week and if you can avoid getting killed by me, you're good to go"

Abby smiled sympathetically and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her chin on his head,

"Course I won't put that suggestion in the report" he continued, as they both stared at the computer screen before them.

"Haven't put much in it so far" Abby prompted, noting the blank page in the Microsoft program,

"Just wondering where to begin"

"How about you begin after you and Officer David stopped playing doctor" Gibbs advised sourly as he rounded the bullpen corner, coffee cup in hand,

"Cause Mossad is probably going to want to read your version of events"

Both Abby and Tony grimaced, "Tell me I'm not going back to Israel boss"

"Not if I can help it"

Abby reached down to Tony's stomach and pinched him through his shirt, "Ow" he complained distractedly,

"Rule number twelve?!"

"Guess that means you won the pool Abby" Gibbs announced, sitting down at his computer and she flinched, guilty at being caught out.

"What pool?" Tony asked confused,

"The one about you and Ziva hooking up, last check the total was into the four digits"

Abby ignored the glare thrown at her by the senior field agent and whipped out her phone, texting as she wandered back to her lap. She hesitated by the elevator and in the empty squad room, with the mooonlight just filtering through the window, voices carried,

"Boss...about what you thought Ziva and I were-"

"I don't think DiNozzo, I know...or have you forgotten that you two made out on my front lawn in front of the CIA?"

"I can't lie my way out of this one can I?"

"Nope"

* * *

"He has failed"

"Who has failed?"

Vance cursed under his breath as he pressed the phone to his ear, knowing the man was playing a cat-and-mouse game with him.

"Officer Ben-Gidon, the man you sent after your daughter Eli, he failed...Ziva's alive and Agent DiNozzo killed him"

"Ben-Gidon? He was in America?..."

Vance wasn't in the mood for any of this crap. He had broken into a motel room just north of the Mexican border and couldn't risk lights, water or air conditioning, he was melting and putrid.

"He was in Leroy Jethro Gibbs backyard and the NCIS team will have his body in autopsy"

"How unfortunate" Eli mused, and Vance heard the sound of leather protesting. He could imagine the man reclining in his luxurious office, the air  
conditioning at a comfortable temperature and the carpet soft against his feet, perhaps he was even picking at a decadent snack and sipping on expensive champagne.

But he couldn't afford to let his hatred of the man show, not now when he was his only chance of survival.

"Tell me Leon," Eli inquired politely, "Where are you? I shall send some officers to escort you to a safe place"

Leon Vance took a deep breath and exhaled, "Where do you want me to meet them?"

He was terrified that he was walking into a trap, but he had no choice.

He would never see his family again.

* * *

A/N- As appears with season seven, Gibbs seems to be aware of the attraction between his two team members and I reckon has simply surrendered to the inevitable


	25. Chapter 25

A/N- Sorry for the delay haven't been inspired.

* * *

Dawn was just beginning to light the world when Ziva and McGee arrived at NCIS, both shivering in the early winter morning. Wrapped heavily in NCIS jackets they hurried across the parking lot and into the security checkpoint where FBI agent Sacks was lingering,

"Good morning Miss David" he leered and Ziva found herself being reminded of gutter slime.

"Hello" she threw the word casually as she might to a stranger, not even granting the man the familiarity of her usual greeting. "Is Anthony DiNozzo upstairs?"

The man's face soured almost comically at the mention of the NCIS agent. Though having much in common, Tony and Sacks seemed to hate each other on principle.

Tony often had that effect on people.

"MTAC" he announced churlishly, "Fornell asked me to escort you up when you arrived"

"I can take her for you" McGee offered as he removed his car keys and followed Ziva through the metal detectors, "I'm going with her anyway"

"Did Fornell ask you to accompany her?" Sacks demanded rudely,

"No" Tim responded perplexed,

"Then I'll take her"

He made the mistake of reaching for her arm and she panicked, recoiling and taking a defensive position, "Don't _touch_ me!"

Before Sacks could make another idiotic move, McGee stepped forward and put his hand against her back, rubbing it soothingly,

"Come on Ziva, let's go see what Gibbs wants"

Ziva wrinkled her nose in disgust at the FBI agent and allowed McGee to guide her to the elevator banks, with Sacks slinking behind like a punished dog,

"Crazy effing bitch" he hissed under his breath, unfortunately loud enough for the two NCIS agents to hear,

"_What_ did you call me?!" Ziva demanded, whirling around to face the blushing agent, she clenched her hands into fists and took a step forward.

Having every intention of hitting the man, but McGee stepped in first, blocking her path,

"Hey buddy" he raised a warning finger in Sacks face, "I have never thrown a punch at a federal agent before, but if I don't hear an apology immediately I will wipe the entire floor with your face and then let Ziva have a go at you!"

Ziva laughed mockingly, giving Sacks the degrading look-over police often gave criminals,

"I do not want an apology from such a lowly being. Come McGee, Gibbs will be furious to know why we kept him waiting"

Looking over their shoulders to throw a contemptuous glance at the FBI agent, they stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button, the doors sliding closed in his face.

* * *

Gibbs head shot up as the door to MTAC opened and Ziva was escorted in by McGee,

"What did they do to Sacks?" Fornell demanded, seated on his right, the FBI agent having been the one to instigate the meeting this morning.

"I'm sure he's still alive Tobias...somewhere" Gibbs assured him, grinning as he took a long sip of his rapidly cooling coffee, hating the top notch air conditioning that ran twenty-four/seven in MTAC, necessary to keep all the technology from frying, but giving anyone who entered the dark room goose bumps.

Standing in front of them, having ignored the entire conversation, Anthony DiNozzo bounded past them, up the stairs to where Ziva held out her hands for him. Before the dozen or so agents in MTAC, he took her hands in his own and led her down to the floor, chatting as he walked backwards with barely a glimpse over his shoulder. Fornell and Gibbs watched with identical movements and expressions as a smiling Ziva was settled into the back row of the seats, Tony leaning over to whisper in her ear.

"Good God in Heaven," Fornell exclaimed quietly, chuckling to himself "They aren't even trying to hide it!"

Gibbs could only roll his eyes, "That ship's pretty much sailed Fornell, ancient civilisations on primitive islands as yet untouched by technology know those two are fooling around"

"Didn't you have rules against that Jethro?"

"Only if they're both NCIS agents" he muttered quietly, taking another sip of his coffee as Agent Sacks finally came in, carrying several folders which he distributed amongst the audience.

"We received intel this morning regarding the whereabouts of direct- Leon Vance" he began and everyone's eyebrows shot up, Gibbs grabbed the file and flipped it open, glaring at the lists of sightings and seeing a coastal map of Mexico before him.

"And we're only finding out about it now because…?"

"Again, we only knew about it this morning, 1:30 am to be exact"

Agent Sacks hesitated then and looked to Fornell who in turn threw Gibbs a sheepish look,

"The information came straight from the Deputy Director of Mossad and he wants a video conference with us in ten minutes"

That remark got a reaction. McGee actually cried out in protest and Gibbs shot to his feet fully intending to storm out of his own building to make his opinion on the matter clear.

But Ziva spoke up first.

"Gibbs, if Eli David has intel regarding Leon Vance it is likely he has already acted on it and this is nothing more than a polite informing"

Gibbs had stopped on the last step of MTAC and was glaring down at the former agent,

"All the more reason not to meet with the bast- director" he pointed out, but she stood her ground,

"Unless of course his actions affect NCIS and their ability to operate"

She had a point. Gibbs knew that, but damn if he didn't want to throw a hissy fit, and go sulk at his favourite coffee dealer until some paper pusher came running to apologize. Unfortunately he was no longer one of the best agents at NCIS, he was the acting director. He had to put out the fires instead of starting them.

"I'll give him five minutes" he decreed taking his seat again, "But nobody talks without my say so, Fornell that goes double for you and Sacks, or I will let McGee and Ziva take that shot"

"Agreed"

* * *

The ten minutes passed slowly, with everyone checking their watches every few minutes or tapping their feet impatiently. Coffee was offered but they were wired enough, even Gibbs turned down the offer- although he considered the office coffee to be a disgusting load of sludge, which may have been a factor in his decision. At eight o-clock on the dot, one of the men stationed at the computers announced the Mossad coming on line and Gibbs stood up, making sure that Ziva was not visible at the back of the room.

The large screen at the front of the room showed the coloured bars before an image of a tastefully decorated office appeared before them, with a well dressed man seated in the Director's chair.

But he was not Eli David.

Seeing this Gibbs wanted to make the cutting motion to the operator immediately and revert back to his former plan, but he'd become intrigued.

"_Who_ am I speaking to?" he asked, not bothering with the niceties, the other man only smiled,

"I am surprised that you do not know me" he replied and Gibbs was able to tell that he was definitely Israeli with English as a second language, like Ziva he spoke too politely to be familiar with the tongue.

"Surely Ziva has given you a full report of the managers and directors of the Mossad?"

"No" Gibbs took a casual sip of his now ice cold coffee, "She's been too busy recovering from the hell she suffered in Somalia to do anything like that"

Although she had given Trent Kort a mine of information regarding Mossad but Gibbs wasn't about to mention that.

"Officer Hadar" he introduced himself, bowing slightly.

"Aw, that's nice, where the _hell_ is Deputy Director David?!"

When Gibbs saw the predatory grin spread across Hadar's face he wanted to get Ziva the hell out of the room, but he knew she wouldn't be able to move without being seen on the monitor, he couldn't protect her from what was about to happen.

"There has been a sudden regime change at the Mossad and as such I am now the Deputy Director of the institution"

Unintentionally the eyes of the federal agents, save Gibbs, flickered to Ziva to see how she handled this information. She turned her face away from the screen and pressed it against Tony's shoulder as McGee wrapped his arms about her.

"A sudden regime change?!" Gibbs spat,

"Right _that's_ how they described the English revolution or the JFK shooting, should I be sending flowers for Eli David?"

Director Hadar pursed his lips in disapproval, "No…but we are going to need Ziva to return to Israel as soon as possible"

"Oh like hell!" Tony called out, releasing Ziva and storming down to the front of the room, "You really think we're just going to ship Ziva back to you so she can "disappear" in the night or have her plane mysteriously crash into the ocean? Dream on buddy"

Gibbs distinctly remembered telling Tony not to speak without his permission, but he decided in present circumstances to let it slide.

He'd head-slap him for it later though.

Hadar turned slightly to look at DiNozzo,

"Ah, you must be the agent that murdered Michael Rivkin in a fit of jealousy"

To his credit, Tony didn't flinch but his colour did go up, "

No…I'm the guy that acted to save my life, but hey- whatever works for you"

"And, last night when you murdered yet another Mossad agent?"

Gibbs had to struggle to stop his surprise from showing on his face, wondering just how the Mossad got surveillance on his house, but maybe they had hacked NCIS.

God knows NCIS had hacked Mossad enough times.

"He fired a bullet at Ziva David, I took aim at the bushes, I didn't even see him til he was lying in our morgue"

"Are you sure the bullet was meant for her?"

"Are you saying Kidon assassins don't know how to aim?"

This was quickly becoming a slanging match and Gibbs knew it was only a few choice words away from becoming an 'international incident'. He stepped forward and threw Tony a quick glare,

"All due respect Officer Hadar, we're very busy here at the moment, if you have something for us, now would be a good time…"

"Leon Vance was shot dead by…I believe you call them _Federales_, last night trying to board a plane out of Mexico, he died before he could be taken to hospital"  
_  
Murder. _

Before he had even finished talking everyone in the room knew that he was lying. Leon Vance had been a trained marine and an NCIS agent, had he wanted to escape Mexico without detection he would have done, unless he had been betrayed.

Gibbs knew that if he made the call to the Mexican Leo's this very second they would have no idea what he was talking about. Unless of course Mossad had somehow managed to bribe half the country, not impossible but certainly not advisable. No, likely they were leaving enough loose ends for some dedicated cop to get a fair idea of what had happened, as a message to NCIS.

That they would stop at nothing for what they wanted.

Suddenly exhausted by the sheer duplicity and open scheming by the Mossad officer, Gibbs switched to the polite director speak he'd often heard from Jenny, muttered a few thank-you's and waited for the screen to go blank again.

* * *

Half the MTAC audience followed him into his office. Fornell right on his heels as everyone took positions on the couches or at the table, waiting for his instructions.

"It was murder," Ziva confirmed, watching him intently as she strode across the room, "I know Hadar, he was my father's minion for many years, the satisfaction in his face…he murdered Leon Vance or at least gave the order"

"No one here doubting you Ms David" Fornell pointed out, "but I personally find it interesting that the man who seemed so determined to keep you from talking to us ended up dead"

Gibbs saw Ziva's eyes flare with anger, "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, I'm _telling_ you that whatever secret your father and Leon Vance shared with you, now would be a good time to tell it!"

She only laughed at the absurdity, "I was one of the most worked officers at the Mossad, I visited nearly every corner of the UN and was privy to hundreds of secrets! How am I supposed to know which is the right one? And meanwhile to so much as speak of Mossad secrets, even unofficially will get me tried for treason"

Feeling every inch of his body ache from lack of sleep, Gibbs took the seat behind the desk and everyone stood to attention,

"Fact of the matter is Ziva, someone's going to a lot of trouble to ensure that anyone who knows this secret turns up dead. First you, then Leon and now your father"

"Must be one hell of a secret" Tony muttered from the couch, giving Gibbs a cheeky, apologetic smile when he caught the young agent's eye,

"Sorry boss"

He only held up his fingers, "That's two DiNozzo"

"Put it on my tab"


	26. Chapter 26

A/N- My excuse was that I was out of the country and that as season 7 progresses, its getting harder to go AU, though I am the only one who found the TIVA to be gone fo?r a few episodes?, there just didn't seem to be much spark which was anti climatic.

* * *

"It's the night before Christmas and all through NCIS, nobody is working, not even Agent Gibbs!"

Everyone in the bullpen snorted into the eggnog Palmer had fetched them as Abby appeared from the elevator, her own version of the Christmas rhyme on her lips.

"It is Christmas Eve?"

McGee looked sideways to where Tony and Ziva were seated against the filing cabinet and wrapped in each other's arms, Tony smiled and rested his chin on her head,

"Yep, December twenty-fourth"

"Merry Christmas"

"Right back at you"

He jumped as someone- Abby- slapped his arm, "Come on everyone, time to visit Abby's Winter Wonderland"

Tim looked to Gibbs who got to his feet with an indulgent smile on his face, taking Abby's arm to escort her to the elevator.

"Can we go too sir?"

McGee heard Agent Sacks ask hopefully, Fornell was already halfway across the bullpen,

"Yep, move it"

Fornell offered him a wry smile as he passed.

* * *

Tony heard Ziva gasp as they entered the forensics lab a few steps behind Gibbs.

"Oh Abby" she sighed, taking Tony's hand and squeezing it with child-like delight, "It's beautiful!"

Tony couldn't disagree, though he had seen Abby's decorations for the first time months ago and a few times again when he'd visited the lab, she'd certainly saved all her tricks til last.

Holly tied up with red ribbons and little bells hung off every available space, and mistletoe dangled down every few steps. High up along the walls, fairy lights shaped like snowflakes flashed, creating the impression that they were in motion. Bordering the floor was cottonwool, having been sprayed as McGee had suggested. A nativity scene was set up in the corner, with the odd addition of Bert the Hippo and an unnaturally coloured giraffe. The Christmas tree was covered in gold decorations and the tinsel had been tied into every shape Abby could wrangle,

"Looks like Santa's village" he agreed, as Abby received a congratulatory kiss on the cheek from Gibbs,

"Atta girl Abs"

With the rest of the group caught up in admiring the decorations and congratulating Abby. Tony squeezed Ziva's hand to catch her attention and when she met his eye, slowly led her through the sliding door to Abby's office. It was dark save for the moonlit night outside the window and the flashing lights from the other room casting a dim glow. Facing each other, Tony took her free hand in his own and exhaled quietly,

"How are you feeling?"

The shielded, defensive look in her eyes reminded Tony of when they had first started working together, before she had begun to let down her guard. She looked down at the ground and then clenched her hands inside his, taking a deep breath before attempting to form her thoughts into words,

"Eli David...my biological father is dead...and yet all I can think about is...how this affects my situation, how this will aid or inhibit my new status as an American citizen" she paused and turned her face away, unwilling to see herself in his eyes.

"Do _you_ think this makes me a bad person?"

She had never needed his opinion on her thoughts before. He couldn't remember a time when she had wanted to know what affect on him her scruples had.

"I think that the man left you to die frightened and alone in a cell in Somalia, I think that he made no real effort to aid you after you were rescued, I think that he never cared for you like a true father should...like Gibbs does. If you're unable to feel grief over his death I think it's because he's done too much to you for you to be able to love him...you're _not_ a bad person Zi,"

She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips, "Todah"

He shivered and released her hands so he could touch her waist and bring her closer to him, indulging in the frivolity and foolishness of the season.

"Gibbs rules be damned, come home with me tonight Zi, it's Christmas Eve, he'll be parked at a bar somewhere anyway"

She didn't answer right away, choosing instead to tilt back slightly so she could look up into his eyes.

"Come home with you Tony" she whispered, her voice light and teasing, "Did you set up the guest bedroom for me?"

"I'll sleep on the couch" he offered quickly, not even thinking about it. She only chuckled and leant forward, pressing her cheek against his shoulder,

"I do not think that will be necessary"

* * *

With her hand firmly wrapped in Tony's, Ziva began walking backwards in the darkened lab. Tony keeping an eye on their friends in the next room while she found the door leading to the walkway.

A small corridor between autopsy and forensics, it was rarely used by Abby or Ducky, both preferring the more socially interactive paths. It was brightly lit but deserted, still they moved quickly, lest Gibbs realise they were missing and send McGee looking for them. Being Christmas Eve, security on the front entrance was light, both managed to smile at Russell as they breezed through, attempting to act casual. As though they were not planning to break the rules tonight.

When they reached the dark parking lot however they could not resist breaking into a run, feet flying across the concrete as they headed for Tony's car, he used remote sensor to unlock the car and they both threw themselves inside, laughing with the excitement and adrenaline.

Half expecting to be stopped at the security checkpoints, Ziva quivered with nerves as they continued to drive through each section, until they had left the Navy Yard and nothing could stop them from that point on. Their mobile phones had been left in Tony's desk and she doubted Gibbs would bother ringing his apartment, not when there were so many people to assure him she had not wandered off alone and when he had allowed them so much previously.

The drive to Tony's apartment was quiet, the car filled with a comfortable, if not slightly heated silence. Closing her eyes, Ziva shifted in her seat so that she could lean her head on Tony's shoulder and close her eyes. The car being an automatic, Tony was able to wrap an arm about her shoulders and when they stopped at a red light, she looked up to find him staring intently at her. With a confident smile, she invited him to bend his head down and give her a long, deep kiss, his tongue parting her lips and slipping into her mouth to rub against hers.

Only a sharp blast of the horn from the car behind them reminding the pair that they were not yet in a world of their own. With an embarrassed, chagrined smile, Tony drove on, his free hand playing in her hair. Feeling her body quiver every time Tony's fingers brushed against her earlobe, Ziva felt as though her blood had been replaced with electricity by the time they pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. He kissed her again and this time she wondered if her legs would actually hold her up they felt so weak!  
She broke for air and smiled against his mouth,

"Inside before we freeze" she suggested, her hands stroking the side of his face.

"You know..." he began cheekily, "When they get really cold in the the Eskimos..."

Blushing, Ziva leant her forehead against his chin and chuckled, "No Tony, inside or not at all"

He made a show of scrambling from the car and was opening her door before she had even finished laughing, he offered her a hand and she stepped into the cold night, shivering delicately. Their arms wrapped about each other they moved quickly up the stairs to his front door, where he released her only to get out his keys, she pressed her lips to his shoulder, pecking him through the material.  
She blushed as the lock clicked and Tony swept her into his home, closing the door behind them they stopped and kissed again. He slid his tongue into her mouth and she wrapped her arms about his neck, her body twitching with excitement and desire as his hands roamed freely.

When her hands ran up his chest and began to play with the buttons on his shirt, through half-lidded eyes she saw him smile and begin to walk her backwards, slowly leading her through his apartment to the bedroom. Daringly, she undid the top few buttons of his shirt and reached up to nip playfully at his neck, reviving memories of her ballet days when she learnt to walk backwards on her toes. She could almost recall the smell of dust and chalk and enjoyed the long lost feelings of triumph and satisfaction.

So when Tony froze in the living room, she didn't realise at first. She continued to stroke her fingers along the unclothed parts of his chest and tilted her head back for another kiss.  
Then she heard a voice that stopped her blood cold,

"Shalom Agent DiNozzo...Ziva"

Horrified and devastated, Ziva released Tony and spun around to find Eli David lounging in one of the armchairs, drinking from a wineglass and looking none the worse for wear.  
He grinned savagely at the looks on their faces,

"Merry Christmas"

* * *

A/N- Oh Yeah everyone's favourite necessary evil good guy


	27. Chapter 27

A/N- Here's the next chapter I still own nothing

* * *

As they gazed in stunned horror upon Eli David, Tony kept his hands firmly about Ziva's waist. Not as a sign of territorialism, or of arrogance- but he feared that if he let go of her now she would crumple to the ground in a dead faint. Except, even through her clothes he felt as her body straightened and tensed, as she once more prepared herself for battle. Deep inside him he felt a primal pride at the strength this woman possessed. Even then he could admit she was a better soldier than he could ever hope to be.

"We were told you were dead, Deputy Director" Ziva began, her voice calm and emotionless,

"It will surely come as a relief to the Mossad to know that you are alive"

The man sitting in his armchair, drinking his wine, shrugged noncommittally,

"Some will rejoice, others-as always-will be disappointed" he stretched his legs,

"It just means that I am fulfilling my role properly"

"It's not like you had the role of father to keep you busy" Tony burst out savagely, his fingers digging into Ziva's petite waist in his anger. She gasped at the sensation but Tony knew that if he released her in that moment he would reach for his gun,

Eli David just smiled, "Have Agent DiNozzo...as you can surely _feel_, my daughter is very much alive"

He viciously shook his head, "Like hell, you lost the right to call her your daughter the moment you left her to die"

"Tony" she whispered fiercely and only her voice alone could have stopped the words between those two men,

"Gibbs will need to be informed of the Director's arrival, if you would be so _kind_"

She gestured to the kitchen and, though he was shaking, Tony brought himself to release her, though he had to clench his fists to prevent himself from lunging at the chair.

"If he lays one hand on you..." he promised, to which she only shook her head,

"I will scream"

Quickly she reached up and pressed her lips to his, hoping to channel her calm into him so that his home did not become a crime scene,

"Make the call Tony"

* * *

Abby choked as the sugary cocktail easing down her throat mashed with the laughter bubbling up inside her. Laughing himself, McGee reached up and thumped her on the back, enabling her to swallow. When she was able to breathe again, she leant over and kissed him on the cheek as a casual thank-you. Even if she did feel unfriendly pride over the blush that rose in his face.

Stationed in a bar just outside the Navy Yard, Team Gibbs had subjugated a large booth and ordered several rounds of drinks already, getting louder by the round. Ducky was in the middle of recalling his first bachelor party when the faint sound of Gibbs cell phone interrupted. Still chuckling to himself, Gibbs patted his pockets and withdrew the device, staring at it for a moment before going disturbingly quiet. Picking up on his mood, the rest of the booth fell silent while he pressed the answer button;

"Hello DiNozzo"

Struggling against the desire to burst out in giggles, Abby ducked back under Tim's arm and pressed her face against his shoulder, shaking with suppressed mirth.

When Gibbs and Fornell had finished admiring her decorated lab, with Fornell arranging to bring his daughter Emily by to see it the next day, both men had noticed simultaneously that Tony and Ziva had disappeared. At first everyone had been thrown into a panic, concerned that Ziva was upset over the death of her father and had all spread out to find them.

Fortunately McGee had checked security and found that Ziva had seemed perfectly fine...as she left NCIS in Tony's car. A quick call to Casa Gibbs had confirmed that Ziva was most definitely not there and Abby had watched as their fearless leader's face had registered his fury. Fornell and his team had made their excuses, hurrying off before Hurricane Gibbs could hit. Amazingly though, Gibbs didn't unleash his anger on them, choosing instead to take Ducky's suggestion of hitting their favourite bar. He'd even appeared to be in a good mood,

But then had answered a call from Tony.

Peeking out from McGee's shoulder, she saw Gibbs had moved outside to better hear the conversation. Leaving Palmer and Tim looking terrified while Ducky only raised his glass,

"A toast," he decreed, "To Tony and Ziva, may their beds be always warm and their couches always cold"

"Ducky!"Abby squealed, sitting up in shock, obviously the Scotsman had drunk more than she realised. Dr Mallard however only down the rest of his drink and looked around oblivious,

"What?! Don't tell me any of you were surprised by tonight's events? Those two have been on that path for years now,"

No-one at the table could argue that, nor did they bother trying. A sudden apathy caused by the alcohol fell upon the table and they all fell quiet. Yawning, Abby leaned back against McGee, pretending it was her happy-go-lucky, friendly nature that caused her to snuggle against him. Except she took note of his every movement and tried to analyse the intent behind his shifting slightly as he pulled her closer.

Was he making himself comfortable?

Was he making it easier for her?

Did he not want to be holding her?

Frustrated and angry, with only herself to blame, Abby cursed herself for her sudden girly weakness. She wasn't usually one of those girls, the ones that took pictures of the guys they wanted to date and pasted it on their wall with love hearts and gold stars. The ones that after three days decided they were head over heels in love and were going to be with said guy forever. The ones that when the inevitable break up happened lay on their bed sobbing their eyes out for days. She wasn't one of those girls, except when it came to McGee.

Right now, she wanted to be the girl that guys bought heart shaped candy boxes for, the one that received love letters and roses that weren't black. She wanted to be the girl who wouldn't have to change her entire outfit just to meet a guy's parents. She wanted to be someone Tim would consider restarting a relationship with.

Even if she had freaked out and burned him the last time.

Feeling more melancholy by the second, she didn't notice the way the object of her thoughts was playing with her hair or casting glances in her direction every few seconds.

She did, however, notice when Gibbs stormed back into the bar cursing up a blue storm,

"Dear God Jethro, what's happened?" Ducky asked, half-rising from the booth, Palmer already trying to find their jackets on the bar floor.

"Eli David is alive" he spat, waving to the bartender and signing for the bill,

"Oh...not good" Abby moaned, unsure of what exactly that meant.

"Yeah Abs, and he's sitting in DiNozzo's living room"

The team froze and looked to Gibbs, all wanting to know the answer and yet afraid to ask the question. He sighed and shook his head,

"They were both fully dressed when they found him, now _move_!"

They didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Eli David watched as Agent DiNozzo swept back into the room, his every movement designed to make Eli feel unwelcome. But if he had spent his entire life only going where he was welcome, he would not have become the Deputy Director of the Mossad.

The tea that Eli had requested was slammed down in front of him and he was surprised that the cup didn't shatter. He raised an eyebrow at his daughter who was draped over the couch, her legs folded neatly under her, looking quite at home in this man's apartment. She only raised an eyebrow in return, seemingly not the least bit troubled by the rudeness being shown to her father.

"Did you hold the arsenic like I requested Agent DiNozzo?" he inquired, feigning a polite tone,

"Unfortunately I don't keep poison in my kitchen pantry...but if you like, I'd be happy to keep your tea warm for you while you run back to Israel and get some"

Wearing a tight smile, Tony sat himself on the arm of the couch, shifting slightly in a way that betrayed him to a trained eye such as Eli's.

The man was carrying a gun and was positioned so as to give himself easy access if the need occurred.

Again, his daughter didn't seem the least bit concerned, though he did see the flash of understanding in her eyes.

Inwardly sighing, Eli reached forward and helped himself to the tea, noting the fact that he hadn't been offered sugar, milk or even a slice of lemon. Then again, most American's seemed to be coffee drinkers, perhaps it was just an oversight.

"So" DiNozzo began suddenly, "Is there actually a reason you're here, or did you just want to ruin Christmas for everyone?"

Licking his top lip, Eli set the tea down, "_Chanukah_, Agent DiNozzo...my daughter celebrates Chanukah, so, as of this moment, I have only ruined Christmas for _you_"

"You're forgetting Acting-Director Gibbs and the NCIS team, Director" Ziva reminded him quietly, the first words she had spoken since sending Agent DiNozzo from the room. Ignoring the impersonal title, he continued to smile, "Perhaps Agent Gibbs and the team will be happy to see me..."

"Doubt it" DiNozzo interjected, sniffing with disdain and looking away,

"When I reveal the information I have for them" Eli finished with a glare at the younger man. His first opinion of him in Israel had been correct; he was rude, arrogant and disrespectful of authority.

"Does this information have anything to do with the chaos in Israel?" his daughter asked, unfolding her legs and leaning forward on the couch, to which he could only shrug,

"It might...unfortunately I found myself in a position where I had to leave Israel...rather _quickly _and since then, I have not been able to make inquiries into the situation"

"Officer Hadar is now Deputy Director," Agent DiNozzo informed him, with such swiftness that Eli had to wonder if he didn't feel satisfaction in giving him that piece of news.

"He is claiming to be Deputy Director" he returned savagely, "I have not yet resigned, died or had the Prime Minister fire me, which means the position is still mine,"

"For now"

* * *

"Tony" Ziva stood up as Eli made to speak again,

"May I talk to you for a moment?" she asked, taking the cloth of his now buttoned shirt and pulling him out of the living room, into the bedroom so they would not be overheard, quickly she shut the door and wished there was a dead bolt to keep the world outside.

Tony was furiously pacing in the small space between his bedside table and the entrance to the bathroom, looking as though he was about to punch a hole in the wall- or in Eli David.

"Tony" she whispered, moving until she was only inches from him and looking straight in his eyes,

"You must control your temper" she hissed, only to find him glaring at her,

"That bastard has no right to come into this country, let alone my house and try to drag us all into the mess he's made"

Ziva understood his anger was a cover for his concern and his fear, whether for her alone or for all of them she could not tell but she knew that if she did not calm him down it would escalate until there was at least one body on his living room floor. At times like this she wished she had Gibbs authority so she could order him to bury his anger.

"Tony" she tried again, reaching out to run her forearms against his,

"Please behave yourself...for me" she added, wondering just how much pull that would have with him. He shuddered and bent his head down so that his mouth was against her ear,

"If it wasn't for him, I would be in this bed making love to you right now"

Ziva drew a ragged breath at the sheer intimacy of that sentence and was unable to stop herself looking to the king size bed, almost able to see their naked bodies entwined between the sheets. She could imagine herself atop him, his large hands caressing her body as she moved...

Blinking furiously to eradicate the images from her mind, she also had to fight the illogical desire to wrap her arms around Tony's neck and pull him down onto that very bed. The fact that Eli David was in the next room and Gibbs was likely on his way meant nothing to her in that moment; her brain was filling itself with little lies and trying to convince her that surrendering to her craving was a very good idea, that they could be quick and quiet so that no one would suspect. Fortunately, even in her current mood she knew the improbability of that outcome and turned her face away. Only to find herself resting on Tony's shoulder as he gently pressed his lips to her jaw, smiling tenderly, Ziva reached up to run her fingers through his hair, but jumped in surprise when she felt his teeth nip her neck and bite down as he sucked at the flesh. She moaned at the sensation and pressed her body against his as he nibbled and then blew gently onto the skin.

The doorbell rang and he released her, pressing his face to her hair before leaving the sanctuary of the bedroom to face the unforgiving masses. Ziva waited until she had regained her breath before following, hesitating only to look in the small mirror hanging beside the door, to see the love bite Tony had left on the side of her neck, just below her jaw line. His way of surreptitiously telling the world that they were partners in every sense of the word.

She licked her lips in anticipation, wondering when she would get to return the favour.

* * *

A/N- Oh but that was fun to write, on another note does anyone know where to find an english-hebrew transliteration dictionary on the web? I've been trying and only been getting proper hebrew and while the symbols are pretty, its not very useful for stories.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N- Things are about to get conspiratorial and complicated- for me cause I have no idea what secret Eli David is keeping.

* * *

"That's three, four and _five_ DiNozzo!"

"On my tab boss"

Gibbs pushed past his senior field agent and stormed into the man's home, remembering the layout from his many visits previously, when it had just been the two of them in the bullpen.

With the rest of the team, even Palmer and Ducky on his heels, Gibbs barged into the living room to find Eli David rising to his feet,

"Shalom Agent Gibbs" he greeted cordially, as though the larger part of the intelligence world didn't believe him to be dead.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

His eyes widened and Gibbs wondered, DiNozzo aside, how long it had been since anyone had addressed him like an equal or spoken down to him.

Probably a while.

"I received information which concerned me and which I thought required my presence in America, however when word came that I was travelling, there was an attempted mutiny and my life was threatened"

"By Officer Hadar?"

All eyes looked to Ziva as she emerged from DiNozzo's bedroom, her hair mussed and her neck sporting a large love bite. There was a faint blush on her face as she tried to act casually, while Gibbs added another head-slap to DiNozzo's fast growing list. Eli David seemed to be inclined to violence against his senior field agent as well, his eyes flying between the two and narrowing dangerously,

"This is an inappropriate place to have such a significant discussion perhaps we should continue this at NCIS?"

"Not _tonight_!"

Gibbs jumped as he heard Abby at his ear, turning his neck to see her resting her chin on his shoulder, swaying slightly under the effects of the alcohol,

"It's Christmas Eve Gibbs! We're all tired and Tony and Ziva need to sleep"

Gibbs inhaled through his nose at that declaration, seeing them both blush in the corner of his eye at Abby's well-meaning but ill-worded statement, even though she was right. Looking around the room now, he saw that his team were all looking a little bleary eyed and frazzled, events having kept them working hard for two days straight.

"Everyone who was at my house last night, you're officially off duty until oh-eight-hundred, get some sleep" he then pointed at Eli David,

"_You_ with me"

He saw the former Deputy Director raise an eyebrow and wondered if he was going to argue, but obviously the man realised how foolish an idea that would be. He was currently without home, job or country and someone clearly wanted him dead.

"Of course _Agent_ Gibbs"

Gibbs did notice how Eli David refused to refer to him as Director, a clear slight in the game of political two step, but he knew how to give as good as he got.

As DiNozzo showed everyone out of his home, Abby wrapping herself around McGee to stay upright, Gibbs lingered in the living room where Ziva was still standing, staring at the armchair where her biological father had been sitting when he'd so suddenly reappeared into her life.

"Laila tov bat" he said tenderly, pulling her into his arms and kissing her on the forehead, she trembled and buried her face in his neck,

"Laila tov abba" she murmured, giving him a shy smile, unaware that the former Director of the Mossad was watching them both from the hallway- an unreadable expression on his face.

* * *

Tony exhaled the moment Abby's drunken rendition of Jingle Bells faded into the night, feeling the tension ease from him. Standing up straight and flexing his back, he padded back into the living room; feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

Ziva was perched on the end of the coffee table, mirroring his fatigue,

"Some day" he commented, earning a small noise of agreement from her.

Groaning, he knelt down before her, placing his palms on her knees for balance, his thumbs caressing the denim in small circular motion.

"How you feeling?" he asked gently and she lifted her eyes to meet his,

"Like I've been shot with a blank, hit icy cold ground, verbally abused by an FBI agent, been told the Director's of NCIS and the Mossad are dead, been threatened by another FBI agent and then had both Gibbs and Eli find me in your home...like this"

She gestured to her slightly dishevelled state and they both blushed again like teenagers.

"At least they arrived before and not after" he pointed out and she chuckled,

"Or during"

They both shuddered at the thought of Gibbs and Director David walking in on them during what would have been the most intimate of acts for them. It was the fastest way to kill any lingering thoughts they might have had of engaging in passion that night,

"Boss man was right though, we do need to sleep" Tony unwillingly eyed the couch knowing that without at least an hour of heating; his guest bedroom would be icy cold. Ziva interrupted his thoughts though, by brushing her fingers against his forehead,

"Hold me tonight Tony," she whispered, "I do not want to think of you sleeping in another room when you could be in the bed with me...please"

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against her left knee, "Don't beg Ziva, not with me, never with me"

He heard her smirk then and felt her head resting on his own, "Not even in the bedroom?" she asked in a teasing sing-song voice and he grinned,

"Well...maybe if we're role-playing"

After finding an old college sweatshirt for her to wear and throwing her clothes into the washing machine, Tony jumped into the shower, almost certain that if Ziva showered first he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to climb in with her. When he was done, he changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt and padded out into the bedroom to find Ziva had changed the sheets.

"You _really_ don't trust me do you?" he asked as she slipped past him into the bathroom,

"There's no telling the last time you changed those sheets Tony...I do not want to catch anything left behind by one of your 'dates'"

"Do you really think I would let you sleep on dirty sheets?" he called through the wooden panels of the door, hearing his sweat shirt hit the tiled floor as she got into the shower,

"I know you'd like my help in making those sheets dirty again" she teased and he grinned, climbing into the bed and settling down on the pillow.

When Ziva came out, she hit the lights and he sighed in relief as sleep began to creep up on him, sliding under the sheets, he opened his arms as she pressed her back against him and then pressed his lips to her hair,

"Merry Christmas Zi,"

"Merry Christmas Tony"

* * *

The Navy Yard was like a ghost town, the protestors had long since abandoned their cause as the cold-snap had set in and everyone who was allowed to be there had gone home for Christmas. So Gibbs knew it was reasonably safe to sit on a damp park bench with only a street lamp overhead for light.

Eli David was of another opinion however.

"Our position is a sniper's dream" he muttered angrily, glaring at the man sitting next to him, his fury only increasing when he shrugged nonchalantly,

"They want to find you they aren't going to let an office or safe house get in the way"

"I would still be more comfortable if I was not a sitting duck"

"Your English is very good" he complimented suddenly and Eli was taken aback,

"Thank-you" he replied automatically,

"Much better than Ziva's" Gibbs continued, looking at him from the corner of his eye,

"My daughter's missions often took her to countries where English was not primarily spoken, as such it was not necessary for her to learn it, it was a hobby for her"

"English is taught as a second language in Israel" Gibbs pointed out, while Eli was desperately trying to understand what game they were playing,

"Yes, but we rarely associated with people who required her to speak it...might I ask why there is a sudden interest in Ziva's grammatical ability?"

"Do you ever regret sacrificing your children's entire lives for Israel? Ever regret breaking and moulding them to the point where they find themselves unable to cope in day to day situations without responding like trained killers? Do you ever look at photo's of them as children and wonder what might have been if you'd allowed them to be civilians?"

Ari and Talia might never have died. Ziva would be home in Israel, maybe married with grandchildren for him to spoil rotten. Instead his son had proven himself a traitor, his daughter had been blown to pieces outside the Mossad complex and his one remaining child was- at this moment- likely in bed with the man who had murdered her last boyfriend.

He had given everything to the Mossad; it was his duty to advance the state of Israel and to protect her from her enemies. But sometimes, at night, when he came home to an empty house and saw photos of the childhoods he had missed, or when one of his friends bragged about their own offspring, his resolution wavered.

But he could not afford to show vulnerability, not now of all times.

"I hate to interrupt you Agent Gibbs, but perhaps we could talk of more important, pressing matters?"

His answer seemed to have been exactly what Gibbs was expecting, "Alright, you came to us, what's the story?"

"I received an odd call from Leon Vance, after he had gone into hiding. He told me that Ben-Gidon had failed to kill Ziva and seemed to think that I had ordered the attack on her, when I decided to have him captured and returned to Washington, he was killed before my men could reach him. I realised then that my phone lines were tapped and my every movement being monitored. Also..."

He took a deep breath and swallowed back the distaste in his mouth,

"When the men Ziva was working her last mission with were sent back, they should have debriefed me immediately and I would have realised how much danger she was in. However they were sent on other missions before they even returned to Israel and I was not alerted to the situation until I noticed that no contact had been made from Somalia for weeks"

"Sounds to me like you've lost a hell of a lot of ground in your own house" Gibbs commented and Eli scowled in embarrassment, "I made the mistake of trusting more people than I should have Gibbs and while you may be rejoicing at the news of my downfall remember...I am one of the few in the Mossad who believes in co-operation with America and in defending Israel rather than hurling soldiers at our enemies, were someone less _tolerant_ than I to take my position, for example Officer Hadar, not only would America find herself without any true ally in the Middle East but Israel would engage more forcefully in bloody wars that would barely be necessary. We need each other to save both our countries"

"And what if I don't give a rats ass about saving Israel or America?" Gibbs challenged,

"What if...outside my family...I truly believe the rest of the world can just go to hell?"

Eli sniggered, "Then you would not be the man my daughter valued so highly and you would not have an entire agency willing to give their lives to protect others- come now agent Gibbs previous to NCIS you had over fifteen years where you fought the enemies of your country, are you saying that you committed these actions simply to watch the blood flow?"

"You surrender to the monster inside you over there so you can be the hero everyone needs back here" the man murmured, "It's what your son Ari believed"

Eli ignored the ache that his heart felt every time he remembered the day he realised his son was no longer able to distinguish between his monstrous cover and who he had once been.

"My son was...mistaken about many things" he muttered impatiently, "Now are you going to help me or not?"

Gibbs seemed to mull the thought over for an eternity before finally nodding,

"Yeah if it'll get you out of the U.S I'll help"

"Todah" Eli replied, wondering how much of his sarcasm was evident in his voice,

"It's gonna cost you though" Gibbs warned, to which Eli could only nod,

"I know"

* * *

A/N- Crude translation time. And might I just point out it is bloody difficult to find a Hebrew transliteration webpage!  
Laila tov bat- Good night daughter  
Laila tov abba- good night father


	29. Chapter 29

A/N- Sorry about the long long long delay. Feelings will be discussed next chapter.

* * *

The first thing Timothy McGee felt when he woke up on Christmas morning was his hang-over.

Having long since realised that self-inflicted pain hurt all the more, he winced and tried to roll over, to face his bathroom rather than his uncovered window.

Except the second thing he felt when he attempted this was a soft pliant warmth against his own body.

For a millisecond he thought he was cradling a pillow or a huge life sized doll and truly wondered how much he had drunk last night before realising that pillows and dolls weren't typically quite as well endowed with the body parts he was feeling.

Curiosity outweighing his desire for darkness, he cracked his eyes open as little as possible and found himself staring at a beautiful fountain of raven black hair. Dazed he manoeuvred his left hand from the stomach it had been cradling, he reached up and ran his fingers through the strands enjoying the soft silken feel.

_She _seemed to be enjoying it too because she sighed and shuffled closer against him, pressing her back against his chest. The movement caused some of her hair to fall forward across her face, revealing the spider-web tattoo across her neck.

Abby.

McGee was in bed with _Abby_.

And now he was shocked enough to wake up, he was also able to realise that neither of them were clothed.

Memories came rushing back to him.

_

* * *

_

"Ninety nine bottles of egg-nog on the table, ninety nine bottles of egg-nog!"

Tim laughed as Abby twirled in a quick circle on the pavement, her cape flying out about her. The dark figure spinning in the weak pool of light while the snow danced down around her,

Hearing his laughter, she stopped and turned to face him, panting slightly with exertion, her voice bright with excitement and cracked from singing- or at least trying to. McGee had heard Abby sing before, she was a damn good singer but her voice was low and deep, high-pitched bar songs weren't her forte.

"Dance with me Timmy!" she ordered, holding out her hands impulsively,

It was long after midnight, it was freezing, they were drunk and had an eight o'clock start on Christmas morning.

"Time to go home Abs" he decided, taking her hands to lead her to the car,

"No" she pouted, sounding petulant and he couldn't help but grin at how adorable she was,

"Yes" he unlocked the back passenger door, knowing from previous experience that when Abby was drunk and argumentative she liked to play with the hand break or gear stick, usually at the most critical times, like heavy traffic or wet roads.

When he opened the door however she simply leant against the car and crossed her arms over her chest, huffing indignantly,

"Abby" Tim sighed and stood before her putting his hands on her waist, "Come on"

"No!" she glared at him before deliberately staring at the ground, and he bent his head down closer,

"Yes" he instructed but when she raised her eyes to meet his he found himself entranced with her hazel-green eyes and the extra long black eyelashes that made them glow.

Her voice was lower now, sultry as she gave him an amazingly sweet yet stunningly sexy smile,

"Please" she whispered.

That had been the last coherent word either of them had spoken for a while.

* * *

McGee was stunned from his hazy, alcohol impeded memories of the previous night by Abby elbowing him in the stomach. He coughed as she groaned and raised her head, looking around her bleary eyed.

"Need to pee" she mumbled to herself, scrambling across the bed, crawling over him and stumbling to the bathroom. Awake now, Tim climbed out of the bed himself and searched the floor for his boxers, pulling them on as he hopped into the kitchen, looking warily about him for any signs of passion-induced damage. Heaving a sigh of relief, he prepared himself for a case of hangover munchies and opened the fridge door, grabbing out the orange juice and the bacon.

A loud yawn alerted him to Abby's presence; he looked over his shoulder as she padded into the kitchen, having dug up one of his MIT t-shirts. She rubbed her eyes as he went back to the bacon, then surprised him by wrapping her arms around his stomach and resting her head against his back,

"Morning Tim Tim" she murmured sleepily and he grinned,

"Morning, how's your head?"

"Attached" she finished her statement by nuzzling against his bare skin and he found himself grinning like the Cheshire Cat, even if he felt a small twinge of relief when she released him to climb onto the couch and fall back asleep.

Being left alone to cook the breakfast gave McGee a small amount of time with which to think. First he wondered if there was some sort of bat call that went out to Gibbs every time one of his agents broke Rule Number 12, he discarded this theory figuring if that was the case Tony and Ziva would be screwed long before him and Abby.

Secondly he wondered what the hell could have possessed him to have sex with Abby Scuito last night,

Multiple times.

His hangover flashbacks allowed him to see them tumbling into the back of the car and him pushing up her skirt, unbuttoning his trousers and then...images failed him but moans of pleasure and sweet nothings filled his memory. He could almost taste Abby's lips as they caught his in a desperately passionate kiss.

Lest he completely burn the bacon, he turned the stove off and left the rashes to drain on a paper towel while he carried the breakfast necessities to the coffee table.

"Abs..." he whispered gently, crouching in front of the couch and brushing hair from her eyes,

"Time to get up"

Abby only groaned and buried her face in her arms, "Five more minutes?"

"We'll be late for work"

She lifted her head and looked at him through blood-shot eyes, "Okay"

She sat herself up and patted the space next to her, which McGee took as she greedily gulped down her orange juice. She then rested her head on his shoulder as he tried to eat, wrinkling her nose at her own breakfast, "Not hungry"

"You will be later"

"I'll raid Tony's hangover stash"

Tony had a hangover stash at work? He really shouldn't be surprised, both Tony and Gibbs had finagled the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet for their personal use, keeping a few spare changes of clothes, shoes and occasionally snacks for when they didn't leave the office for days on end.

Knowing Tony, his stash probably contained the ingredients for his own hangover remedy and every chocolate bar and packet of chips available inside the States.

He'd have to remember that next time he skipped lunch.

"Should we talk about what happened last night?"

Those eight words were like a bucket of icy cold awkwardness cascading over the startled McGee.

Should they talk about what happened last night?

Gibbs was expecting them in an hour, the dead Deputy Director of Mossad- and Ziva's father- was alive and in Washington D.C supposedly with some big news. Did he really want to talk about his feelings now and risk an unhappy or commitment phobic Abby on top of everything else?

"Why don't we wait til we're both sober?" he suggested hopefully, feeling his emotional walls slam into place so he wouldn't have to revisit the pain of his first break-up with her again.

Even in her current state she was still able to give him a rather evil squint,

"That sounds like avoidance Timmy!"

"No" he argued, picking up their plates and carrying them to the sink, "it sounds like I'm trying to avoid another fight until this case is over"

"_Another_ fight?"

Too late.

Sighing Tim rubbed his eyes and turned back to the couch, leaning against his computer station to keep a distance between him and the glaring Goth.

"Abs...the last time we fought and then broke up I was a wreck for the rest of the case, it's amazing Gibbs didn't fire me then. Now he's got the Mossad, its former Deputy Director, a dead Leon Vance and Tony and Ziva to worry about! If I don't pull my weight for this one, or allow myself to get distracted...I just don't want to end up back in Norfolk"

"So you just assumed two adults wouldn't be able to sit down and talk through this rationally and you just _assumed _that I would pick a fight"

When they had first met, Timothy McGee had been sweet and thoughtful but always unsure of himself. Since then, since joining NCIS with Gibbs' head slaps and Tony's sometimes mean but generally well-meant taunts, he had toughened up and stopped being the push over that had allowed himself to fall to pieces when Abby had dumped him like trash.

"No I assumed you'd once again try to bail and frankly I didn't want to hear the same bull as last time!"

He saw her double-take, the surprise written across her face and for a moment he thought he saw something else too, something like hurt. But then that was gone and all he saw was anger. Without another word she stormed past him into his bedroom, slamming the door with such force he was surprised the wood didn't crack.

Closing his eyes, full of disappointment at both her and himself, he picked up his phone to call her a cab, too occupied with the conversation to hear the sounds of muffled weeping in the next room.

* * *

"I am sorry Jethro but I simply insist that we..."

"Ah hell Duck _fine_, go ahead"

"Thank-you"

Having just stepped out of the stairwell their hands clasped as inconspicuously as possible, Ziva looked to Tony curious for his opinion on the odd conversation they had just overheard, he raised an eyebrow and threw her a cheeky grin before abandoning her to bound ahead to the bullpen.

Tenderly shaking her head at his endearing though childish behaviour she followed him, rounding the office walls only to find her path hindered by one of the operating tables from autopsy. At least, she presumed it was one of the tables, it was the same width and length but it had been covered by a brilliant white tablecloth.

And food, lots and lots of food.

She laughed at the oddity and looked over to where Ducky was unwrapping a rather large tray of potatoes.

"Ah Ziva my dear, how good to see you and Merry Christmas"

"Merry Christmas Ducky" she returned, chuckling as he eased around the table and offered his cheek for her to kiss,

"Is that a glazed ham Duck?"

Glancing around the bullpen properly now she saw Tony was already eyeing the food greedily, despite having eaten what he'd claimed were 'the best pancakes in the world' barely half an hour ago.

"Yes it is dear fellow, I had intended for it to be warm but when I realised that our Christmas would most likely be spent in the office I decided that a cold lunch would be best, but not to worry..." he shook his finger at the two of them as though they could find reason to complain in the face of such a sumptuous meal,

"I have attained Abby's help and a large Mallard family pudding is downstairs, boiling in one of her machines as we speak"

"Sounds great Ducky" Tony assured him absently as his fingers reached for a tray of roasted vegetables, hurrying forward Ziva slapped his hand away,

"Ow!"

"I believe it is polite to wait for all the guests to arrive, yes?" she pointed out taking a step closer to him,

He wrinkled his nose and shrugged, "Nah...I'm hungry now"

She had to slap his hand away again and this time stared at him incredulously, "You just ate!"

"My metabolism works fast" he countered, grinning as they fell back into their old routine of teasing and bickering.

"Obviously not that fast" she retaliated, closing as much distance between them to poke him in the belly, and then brush her fingers across his pants.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" he feigned outrage even as his hand found her waist and squeezed, making her skin tingle and her heart race.

"Nothing but perhaps you should wait for McGee, Abby and Palmer" she suggested her voice low and her eyes making heated promises.

"Fine" he relented, his eyes darting around before he ducked his head and quickly kissed her just below her ear.

* * *

Stationed in the gallery, having just been witness to the poor work ethic that was Gibbs shouting down to the medical examiner in the bullpen, Eli David longed for the quiet civility of Tel Aviv and the Mossad offices. To be sheltered inside his office again, with a cup of tea and the piles of paperwork. He had always enjoyed that aspect of his job, the satisfaction of reading the numerous reports, knowing that they were compiled for him alone and which his signature alone could validate or render useless.

Instead he was stuck here in the States, watching as a worthless American man pawed his daughter with the subtlety of a drunk. And watching as his daughter returned the pandering with a secretive smile, as if the whole world wasn't watching them and aware. Agent McGee walked in then and they broke apart to take to their desks, which seemed to be a signal for Gibbs to push from the balcony and head towards his office.

Not wanting to endure the sight of his daughter lowering herself to the standards of the foolish people around her, Eli David followed. As they walked through the reception area he noticed that the receptionist had clearly been given the day off- and obviously hadn't thought to come in anyway. Nava, his personal assistant never entered the office after him or left before.

Inside the office Gibbs stationed himself at head of the table and motioned for him to sit, he did so and mentally prepared himself, sorting the information in his head into categories, ranging from things he would be able to tell the NCIS and things he would have to take to the grave.

He also wondered how much more Agent Gibbs would expect him to divulge, after all, between what he had told him last night and the information Trent Kort had somehow obtained from his daughter there couldn't be too much mystery left to the Mossad.

He squared his shoulders and quietly inhaled as Gibbs placed his palms on the table and observed him, "Hadar planned a mutiny," he began softly, repeating the information Eli had given him last night,

"He used the widely known trust you had in him to issue and delay Mossad orders without your knowledge, to leave your daughter at the mercy of terrorists and to damage a long, expensive mission hoping either to have you fired or cause enough scandal for you to resign. When you did neither he somehow either blackmailed or tricked Leon Vance into thinking he had the support of the Mossad when he acted against your daughter"

"We've been through this..." Eli couldn't help but interject, dragging his fingers across the smooth varnished wood in frustration, Gibbs lifted his head slightly in acknowledgement,

"Yeah we have and the thing I've noticed is that no matter who's committing the crimes Ziva's name keeps cropping up amongst the victims. Hadar went to a lot of trouble to sabotage her mission and to make it look like her death was just part of the job. Vance straight out tried to kill her. Ben Gidon took a shot at her in front of two NCIS agents...What exactly does your daughter know that's worth killing for Eli?"

"I honestly don't know, over the years she has likely gathered information that is worth killing for but I cannot think of one particular piece that would cause those three men to attempt murder"

"You're a lying bastard"

He flushed at the accusation and wished had long sharp nails so he could tear through the wood and ruin the expensive piece of furniture,

"The question is Agent Gibbs, _what_ exactly are you going to do about it? Every minute you delay here Officer Hadar, an enemy of Ziva and ergo _you_, gains ground in Israel and my immunity renders any evidence you believe you have against me useless anyway..."

This time Gibbs interrupted,

"I've already spoken to your higher-ups in Israel, they assure me they're looking into the matter and will come to a conclusion as fast as possible. I called them while you were having breakfast this morning"

Eli had to struggle to hide his surprise, "Thank-you, then I will be on the first plane back to Israel..."

"No" he gave him a bitter grin, "You won't because I also spoke to Delilah Vance this morning and her husband's funeral is at twelve hundred hours tomorrow...you've spent years killing Eli David and tomorrow, you're finally going to see the cost of your heartless actions"

He strode past him, going to leave his own office while the former Deputy Director of the Mossad was frozen in his chair shell-shocked,

"I hope you have the stomach for it"

Raucous merriment reached his ears to let him know that Gibbs had joined in the Christmas lunch downstairs, somehow the exclusive, far off joy only served to frighten him more.

* * *

A/N- Good news I just figured out what the big secret is!!! Its a shocker (hopefully)


	30. Chapter 30

A/N- Sorry about the delay, this chapter was going to have raunchiness and meaningful talks but I decided screw it, I just wanted to get it out, so...next chapter

* * *

Ziva looked down at the clutch in her hands, a black velvet piece she had borrowed from Abby, along with the most demure piece of black clothing the Goth owned. A simple black sheath that fell to her knees with an over layer of black lace. Abby usually spruiked the dress up with bright red boots, matching dog collar and numerous spiky jewellery but both women had known that such adornments would be insulting for the occasion.

The funeral of Leon Vance, former Director of NCIS and her attempted killer.

"Hey..."

She raised her eyes to see Tony twisted in the driver's seat, facing her as McGee and Palmer feigned temporary deafness, "If you want to pull out, no-one would blame you..."

"It is fine Tony, really" she lied, stretching her lips in the parody of a thin smile, pressing her hands against the clutch to try and disguise her sweaty palms, she tucked her hair behind her ears and pushed the car door open before he could give her another chance to run screaming back to Gibbs place and hide beneath her bed sheets.

After all, she was Ziva David and she did not shirk away from unpleasantness.

"You can do this" she whispered to herself as she stood in the parking lot of the church, looking up at the small blue stone building,

"You buried Ari twenty minutes after a twelve hour flight, still wearing the clothes you killed him in, you can do anything"

"Want a mint?"

She started as Palmer appeared at her side, offering her a little tin case; she shook her head and ran her eyes over the crowd, looking for the familiar silver mop and raven tresses. For some reason, when they had all congregated at NCIS that morning, ready to begin the car pool, as soon as McGee had wandered over to her and Tony, Abby had latched on to Gibbs and called shot gun before Ducky could even register that he would not be the only passenger in the bright yellow car.

McGee had managed to look both hurt and incredibly guilty, making Ziva curious as to what was going on in her friend's life. She wondered if there were male toilets in the church for her to corner him in later and get his confession,

She wondered if there were any toilets _in_ the church.

She had never been inside a Christian place of worship before. Strangely enough she had never been in the situation where it had been necessary to enter one, or felt any inclination to. Feeling a sudden concern about protocol, she lingered until Tony reached her side, giving her head the slightest tilt in question,

"This isn't like a mosque or a synagogue" he announced, removing his sunglasses, "It's casual seating, but I'd advise against sitting next to old people and children"

"Palmer and McGee will sit next to me" she suggested, feigning nonchalance as she threw a flirtatious smile to Palmer, who after a moment of flattered surprise, caught Tony's jealous glare and moved to find Dr Mallard, disappearing into the crowd.

"I'm pretty sure the last time McGee was in a church was for an investigation" he muttered, resting a hand on Ziva's lower back and beginning to guide her through the crowd.

* * *

She kept her eyes directly in front of her, avoiding looking left or right for fear of seeing enemies all around her. She leant into Tony's casual touch and was rewarded when he gave her a surreptitious yet intimate caress.

At the foot of the steps leading to the front doors she found the team huddled in a semi-circle, when she and Tony reached them, they closed ranks, turning their backs on the world. Gibbs stood at the head of the circle, his eyes appraising every one of them in turn, Abby and Ducky flanked him with Palmer stationed at the doctor's side and McGee habitually stationed himself next to the Goth, even if there was noticeable tension between them. Ziva let her shoulder touch Tim's in a consoling manner even as she pressed as much of her body as publicly decent against Tony.

Nobody spoke for a moment, all busy with their thoughts and subdued by the event that had brought them to the small church in the outskirts of Quantico. Shivering against the cold, they kept their eyes on the ground before them, pretending not to notice the stares of the people around them, or the sound of their gossiping.

Everyone in the foreyard looked up when the doors opened and two altar boys signalled for people to start entering. For a moment no one moved, and then Gibbs sighed and strode up the stairs, the team respectfully falling into place behind him. Ziva kept pace with Tony but could not resist looking around at the white washed walls with stained glass and carved niches.  
Above the altar, overlooking the aisle was a rather large crucifix, showing the suffering of Jesus, Ziva studied the suffering man with the artistic addition of blood trailing from his hands and ribs, trickling down his uncovered legs.

She felt herself frown in disgust, unable to imagine praying before the image of a tormented person- it felt sadistic to her.

* * *

The first three rows of pews had been reserved for family, friends and high ranking attendees, though the latter were taking their seats gingerly, as though worried the wood would come to life and snap up their careers. Veering left, Gibbs stopped at the fourth row, gesturing for Tony to head in first, which he did after raising his hand to his forehead, Ziva saw his arm move and quickly looked to Gibbs for direction,

"Catholic thing" he informed her, jerking his head at her in the same manner she had once seen him treat a cat. She slid in and sat next to Tony, looking to McGee and Abby, noticing that while McGee- whom she knew was Protestant, sat down without any further action, Abby knelt and quickly ran her hand from her forehead to her chest and across her shoulders- making the sign of the cross.

That she had seen before and recognised now.

"Are we in a Catholic Church?" she asked Tony, keeping her voice low,

"No, but it's a hard habit to break"

She snickered and settled in, trying to take Tony's hand without gaining attention. Unfortunately Gibbs was not so lucky, the moment he was about to sit down a man in full naval uniform stood up in front of them and held out his hand to shake, nor was he alone. Three men, two in uniform, one dressed like a politician, actually got out of their seats to shake Gibbs hand and talk to him. Ziva raised her eyebrows as mourners came up to their pew and began making polite talk with their team leader. She knew that Gibbs was now the Director of NCIS- as hard as it was to imagine him no longer being a field agent, but surely politics ended at the church door. Turning in her seat and gazing out at the rapidly filling church, she spotted a familiar skull cap and saw her father dressed impeccably as always in a black suit, seated in the very last pew, obviously trying to keep a low profile. However, she was able to see him staring in disbelief as the crowd around Gibbs started to block the aisle and people had to squish past those dancing attendance on the quiet man, she remembered all the religious holidays when she had attended synagogue with her father, how it had been one of the few times he had shunned business associates, once even admonishing a man for approaching to congratulate him on a recent success within the Mossad.

_"I am in Temple" he had snarled, "If I wanted to discuss business I would be in my office, where you can reach me every other day of the week, nine to five, now leave me alone!"_

Religious houses were not the place to socialise or network, she tried to keep the disapproval from her face as Gibbs took his seat with obvious relief, focusing her eyes on the bibles in front of her, even as McGee opened a booklet with a profile picture of Leon Vance on the front.

"Looks like it's gonna be a long sermon" he sighed, "Half the family is doing a reading and there's a full Mass..."

"What does that mean?" she asked, pressing her lips to Tony's ear and feeling an inappropriate shiver when his hand found and gripped her thigh,

"It'll take about an hour, closer to an hour and a half"

Ari's burial had only taken ten minutes, commute aside, it had only taken ten minutes to bury her half-brother, knowing he would not have wanted a long winded ceremony, in fact he had once mentioned cremation to her but, as much as she had loved him, what little religious beliefs she held would not allow her to desecrate his body in such a manner.

It had been the first and only time she had allowed Yahweh to take precedence over her brother.

* * *

Slowly exhaling Ziva settled back in the seats and stared up at the ceiling, admiring the little cherubs across the roof, counting all of them and finishing just moments before the music started and the priest began walking up the aisle.

Everyone stood and the team turned to watch as the dark wooden coffin was carried through the doors by six men whom Ziva did not recognise and that were dressed as civilians. Which was an interesting detail in itself, she would have assumed that Vance would have had friends from the Marine Corp as pall bearers, certainly his time in the Navy and NCIS would have warranted it, hell even her brother could have had Mossad operatives to carry his coffin if he had wished with his career...

_'Stop thinking about Ari and focus on matters at hand' _

Giving herself a mental shake and pushing memories of her charismatic and manipulating older brother from her mind, she forced herself to watch as Mrs Vance and her two children followed the coffin down the aisle, the woman burying her face in a handkerchief and her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as her husband's body was lowered at the front of the church- sans American Flag.

The priest turned to face the congregation and everyone sat down again,

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Leon Vance, a husband, father and good man who was taken from us too soon..."

Ziva took a strangled breath and focused her eyes upon the priest even as the words washed over her. She hated funerals; the last one she had attended that she could remember properly had been Hasmia's, and only because Ari had gripped her left hand so tightly that he had jarred and fractured her fingers.

Talia's had been a blur of tears and choking grief and at Jenny Sheppard's funeral she had been busy taking care of a sobbing Abby and hung-over Tony to feel any emotions. She felt oddly detached now, as though she were not a part of the scene around her, as though she was watching the ceremony from above. Concerned that she was suffering a psychological relapse, she concentrated on her breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling and practising the techniques Ducky had taught her to relax.

Feeling better she raised her head in time to hear the priest announce that Mrs Vance would be reading Psalm 58:10, the elderly man left the pulpit and walked over to the widow and her children, providing assistance when they refused to let go of their mother. During this short delay, Abby drew a bible out from the shelf in front of her and began rifling through, she stopped suddenly and tensed. Ziva leant over to get a better view as the holy book was passed across Ducky and Palmer's lap to Gibbs hands, watching as their leader moved the page backwards and forwards to adjust his failing eyes to the tiny print.

Mrs Vance cleared her throat as she stopped before the microphone and her eyes swept the congregation before her; strangely enough there was no evidence on her face that she had been crying, just a hard determination that sent chills down Ziva's spine.

"My husband Leon was a good man who was betrayed by those who should have been loyal to him..."

"Ooh not good" Palmer muttered as Abby hissed and McGee went red with mortification, Ziva was worried and blindly reached for Tony's hand. They heard a sound to their right and saw Gibbs rising to his feet,

"Let's go" he ordered, his voice low with restrained fury, causing people in the pews around them to turn and stare. Cautiously Ducky got up and the rest followed, ducking down to pick up handbags and jackets while trying to be quiet- aware of the attention they were gathering and blushing for the disapproval they could imagine their audience feeling. Gibbs made a low growl in his throat and they double paced, Ziva grabbing McGee's wrist as they stumbled out of the pew, Tony's hand on her waist, Palmer quivering as Abby held his and Ducky's hands.

The moment Tony's feet were in the aisle Gibbs strode passed them and led the way towards the large front doors. People were openly muttering and Mrs Vance knew that she was losing ground, when she spoke next, her words were frantic and even without the microphone they thundered across the church.

"And _'The godly will rejoice when they see injustice avenge. They will wash their feet in the blood of the wicked'_"

* * *

Gibbs had made it to the threshold of the church with the team hot on his heels, so when he stopped dead Ducky and Abby ran into the back of him. Jolted by the action, Ducky opened his mouth to protest but any sound in his throat died when he saw the look on his old friend's face.

Ziva tripped sideways as the team scattered out of the way, she fell against McGee whose arm snapped across her stomach to keep them both upright while Tony grabbed his shoulder and her waist. Gibbs seemed blind to them though, in fact he looked neither left nor right as he stormed back up towards the altar, stopping halfway and staring straight at the offending woman.

"How _dare _you!" he spat, his voice at regular volume but everyone in the church was so quiet they would have heard a needle dropped. Ziva saw Mrs Vance flinch at his venomous tone,

"My husband was a good man agent Gibbs" she shouted, causing the microphone to screech and people winced,

Gibbs only scoffed, "Your husband fled this country after attempting to murder one of my team, after he _betrayed_ NCIS!"

Ziva had betrayed NCIS as well but clearly no one felt the urge to chip in at that point,

"Setting aside the fact that he was a weak nothing who had to conspire to get into the director's seat, if you ran a DNA test I'd bet you wouldn't get a match between the man in that coffin and the sample Leon Vance gave for his physical when he joined the Marine's- it'd come up as Tyler Keith Owens, the man with the detached retina"

Ziva vaguely noticed that Eli David had chosen to follow as they descended the stairs from the church, but the agonized howl of grief shattered through her awareness.

She wondered what she would do if she ever lost Tony.

She didn't want to find out.

* * *

A/N- And let's all say goodbye to the Vance family...Oh and I figured out what the evil secret is btw- its a doozy I'm thinking of writing another fic with this scret as the entire plotline it could hold up a story by itself!


	31. Chapter 31

A/N- I am really really really sorry for the delay in updating but I've had tons of uni work and I struggled on a certain scene in this chapter, you may be able to guess which one and decided that I am no good at writing _those _scenes. Anyhow lots of actions next chapter- action action though, not that kind of action. The secret Ziva inadvertently knows will be explained.  
Anyhow thanks for the reviews

* * *

"Don't you all have paperwork to do or something?"

Ziva head shot up at the sound of her boss's angry demand and looked out the car window to where Gibbs was storming purposefully through the garage, past their cars and towards the elevator, presumably headed to his office. Her eyes followed him uncertainly, after they had left the funeral she had wanted to take him aside and thank him for defending her against Vance's widow. However before she could gather her thoughts she had found herself in Tony's car, and then the NCIS garage, with Gibbs moving faster than she had seen him when they weren't chasing a perp. Her shoulders sinking, she settled her gaze on Tony, who held the car door open for her. Smiling she climbed out, making sure to brush against him as she did so and was rewarded when his fingers trailed quickly across her stomach and down to take her squeeze her hand before turning to McGee.

"So" his loud voice echoed through the relatively empty garage, "On a scale of one to ten and in comparison with all the other funerals we've attended as a team?"

"One hundred and eighty three" McGee answered glumly, making a face as he loosened his tie,

"I'm adding points based on how we were accused of his murder during the actual ceremony" he continued, blushing in remembered embarrassment as the three of them moved towards the elevator bank.

"True" Tony agreed, "I have never been accused of murder at a funeral before- at NCIS, a hotel and by the FBI, but never _after_ the body has already been released"

"Why was the body released so quickly?" Ziva asked as they stepped into the elevator and headed up to the squad room, finally being able to voice the question that she had been thinking over for so long, "Surely the Director of a federal agency warranted a proper investigation?"

The two men both hesitated as the doors opened and she wondered if she had overstepped, even though both Tony and McGee trusted her with their lives, she wasn't an agent again yet and as such wasn't allowed to be privy to certain information.

"The higher ups didn't want word to get out that the Director had likely died betraying his country" McGee sighed, "And as it appears that the Mossad had a hand in his death and we couldn't investigate them anyway..."

"Letting dead dogs lie is the expression" Tony interrupted, ushering them into the squad room and looking around for Abby, Ducky or Palmer,

"What else would you do with a dead dog?" Ziva asked confused, noting that even as McGee sat down at his computer, Tony remained standing,

"It never made much sense to me either" his voice trailed off and he tugged gently on her dress, jerking his head towards the MTAC gallery, throwing a quick glance to McGee to see he was absorbed in his computer, she followed him.

* * *

Tony led the way to the conference room and, checking it was empty, they slipped inside, locking the door behind them.

Ziva eased around the room, taking a seat with her back to the NCIS banner, she slumped into the chair, leaning back so she could rest the heel of her shoe against the table. Slipping off his jacket and taking the seat next to her at the head of the table, Tony rolled his shoulders and practically fell into the chair, shifting forward to rest his elbows on the table and lowering his head.

They were content to sit there like that for a few moments, both taking the time to gather their thoughts and enjoy the soothing peace they could only gain from each other in such a situation- or any situation really.

Except this platonic intimacy which had served them so well for four years was beginning to lose its charm, where once they hadn't needed the slightest physical touch for days or weeks, they now seemed unable to go without the slightest caress for hours. Even now, the air of the conference room was potent with electricity and Ziva had to struggle to resist the urge to reach out and take Tony's hand within her own and kiss his fingers. When he wearily raised his head to meet her gaze she saw the same fight in his eyes and her lips parted with a silent gasp, causing him to lick his own.

"I promised myself that we would talk today" he began his voice little more than a whisper,

"But being so close to you makes things like words and sentences hard"

Cautiously standing on shaky legs, Ziva moved closer as Tony got to his feet and held his arms out for her. They embraced and she made a low noise in her throat as his lips met hers in a kiss. Years of pent up desire and fiery passion exploded now and they both moaned as their hands frantically sought each other out. Ziva felt Tony lean his weight on her and stumbled back until she felt the sharp ends of the cabinet against her thighs; she broke the kiss and cried out at the sting, using her strength to manoeuvre them away from the object they knocked over Tony's chair, their lips joined again and their tongues duelled as they began pulling at each other's clothes.  
There was a little scar just below Tony's right ear, Ziva nipped at it playfully as she ground her hips against his. He groaned at the pleasurable sensation and ran his hands from her waist to her shoulders, finding the thin straps of the dress. The material slid easily down to her stomach, followed by the camisole and she gasped as her breasts were exposed to the cool air, hardening her nipples further. Impatiently she found the buttons on Tony's shirt and began undoing them as swiftly as she could without ripping them right off. They kissed again as she ran his shirt down his arms, not even noticing as it hit the floor, pressing herself against his chest and stomach, enjoying the feel of his warm skin and hair against her breasts. She felt his weight press down on her again and realised he was lowering her to the floor, slowly, carefully, she sank down, reaching behind her to break her fall and hold herself up. His lips left hers and found her neck and her shoulder before he pulled away, giving her a hesitant smile,

"Are we gonna do this?" he asked, his hand leaving her waist to brush against her breast, causing electric shocks to fly through her body to her very core.

She bit her kiss swollen bottom lip and shifted to make herself more comfortable,

"We are already half naked on the floor of the NCIS conference room Tony, I was pretty sure that we were going to do this"

He gave her an embarrassed smile, "Well...yeah but I thought I'd be a gentleman and give you the option of running first"

She threw her head back and laughed, her voice low and soft, "Believe me Tony, I think we have both done enough running"

He chuckled and crawled up until he covered her, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his back, kitten scratching the skin. They kissed again, slowly this time, as Tony's hands found the hem of her dress at her knees and slid it up to her thighs, shivering in anticipation, Ziva reached down for his belt buckle, seeing his erection pressing through his pants.

"What's it mean?" he asked and she frowned before seeing his eyes settle on the tattoo on her thigh,

"Three forever" she translated, her hands hesitating as memories- both good and bad- threatened to overwhelm her, "I will explain it to you later"

"Uh huh" Tony had clearly lost interest in the Hebrew lettering and was seeking the more natural parts of Ziva's body. He lowered his lips to her thigh and began raining little kisses along the skin, making her both shiver and melt. Her hands fumbled on Tony's belt while she tried to remember how buckles worked, she hissed as she pricked her finger on his concealed knife, thankfully no skin was broken but she was contemplating using that same knife to cut the leather right off.  
Fortunately at that same moment, Tony's hands found her black silk panties and all thoughts of property damage left her mind. He pulled away and she frowned in confusion,

"Wha-?"

She relaxed when she saw him undoing his belt buckle, sliding it out and tossing it to the side. Grinning she rolled to her knees and took hold of the dress bundled at her waist and slid it up over her head, while he stripped down to his boxers. Their eyes ran over each other appreciatively before they found each other's lips again, after all, this was hardly the first time they had seen each other all but naked. For the last few months they had been carefully experimenting with their physical relationship, exploring the new found territory with all the concern of adventurers in an unknown land without the equipment to survive. Their emotional relationship they were simply going to throw up in the air and trust the years of developed experience in finding their way back to each other, but their physical relationship...When Tony had first laid his hands on her and she had closed her eyes, she had panicked and nearly ripped out his jugular. So, whenever Gibbs had left the house, Ziva had called Tony over and they had...practised, for lack of a better word. They'd moved slower than molasses and spent entire sessions working themselves up enough to be able to remove their shoes and socks without problems arising.

But it had worked. Tony's hands hooked under her silk panties and drew them down to her knees, his tongue probing her mouth while she shivered with desire beneath him. Teasingly, his fingers danced across her thighs, exploring every inch of her except the part that was readying itself for him, she arched her body up towards his hand, causing him to chuckle at his effect on her.

It quickly turned into a moan when Ziva's hand slipped into his boxers and began stroking his hard length.

"I...won't last long if you keep doing that Zi" he groaned, pressing his lips to her ear, she chortled,

"Should have thought of that before dirtying with me" she suggested, using her free hand to draw him further down onto her,

"Messing" he corrected automatically, his fingers finding entrance to her body, her warmth making him harder and her gasp with desire. They were bucking against each other now, each pleasuring the other while seeking to heighten their own experience.

"I am lying naked under you Tony, I do not think now is really the time to focus on my English skills" her voice trailed off with a smothered cry and a whimper as she orgasmed,

"No" he agreed, pulling back despite her protests, her hand snapping out of his boxers, and reaching into his discarded pants to draw out his wallet

"I think now is the time I put this on" he held up the small square package with a condom inside. Ziva smiled as she sat up and eased her underwear off her body,

"Are you not worried I will see the sizing on the package?" she teased, grabbing his jacket and laying it down behind her as a makeshift blanket, he only laughed as he tore the package open,

"You've already seen the sizing sweet cheeks, besides I've nothing to hide"

He flicked the wrapping in his fingers so she could read the lettering, she tilted her head and pretended to think, "X-Large" she murmured, "Now that does not seem right"

With a mock-frown Tony lunged forward and knocked her back against the floor, the silk lining of his jacket a pleasant relief from the scratchy feel of the carpet, "Enough talking" he decided, kissing her again before sliding into her,

"Yes" Ziva moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. She wasn't sure if she was agreeing with him or expressing the pleasure of feeling him inside her for the first time, of feeling both physically and emotionally full.

But for the next two hours she really didn't care.

* * *

Abigail Scuito sighed as the matronly waitress quietly placed the oversized red velvet cupcake on the table before her and walked off. She stared at the blue and white decorated china plate and shifted her eyes to the New Orleans style coffee stationed next to it, steam still rising from the deliciously dark liquid...

Nope- wasn't doing a damn thing for her.

Now she knew she was down in the dumps.

The born and bred southerner was sitting in a little cafe a street away from the Navy Yard, owned and run by an elderly couple out of Savannah, whom it turned out were her cousins eight times removed on her mother's side. Titled 'Juliette's Bakery' for the founder of the American Girl Scouts, it served both traditional and authentic southern foods and drinks. Abby often went there when she was feeling homesick or needed a little pick-me-up. And it usually worked without fail.

Until today.

After the eventful funeral, the team had climbed into the cars, Palmer joining her and Ducky in the Gibbs mobile, and driven back at the NCIS garage. Although they had been given the day off, their cars were parked there and nobody seemed willing to go home at the moment. Even though they had no active cases and, despite Director David being there, very little for any of them to do, they seemed afraid to be away from the Navy Yard at the moment, as though they would miss something vital if they were absent for more than an hour. In times of unhappiness or stress, at least being in the NCIS offices gave you the comfort of feeling safe and important. So after seeing Tony and Ziva slip away and McGee station himself at his desk Abby had taken refuge in her lab, pottering around uselessly for all of thirty minutes and running unnecessary diagnostics on her machines before giving up and heading for an early lunch.

Except she hadn't had much of an appetite.

Not after seeing Ziva in Timothy McGee's arms.

The image kept playing over and over in her head like a broken record.  
_  
Gibbs stormed through their group and they had to scatter to get out of his way. Abby had flung herself to the left with Ducky and Palmer while Ziva had fallen...no been pulled to the right by McGee. McGee who had wrapped his arm about the Israeli's waist to keep her standing- and left it there until Gibbs had stormed from the church.  
He'd left it there!  
_  
McGee hadn't touched her once today, even when they'd been standing next to each other he put as much space between them both as possible. Maybe if she wore less make-up, curled her hair and started speaking with an accent he'd find her attractive again. Or maybe he'd still blow her off after a great night of sex to go dance attendance on Ziva- who didn't seem to be at all upset with him trailing after her like a little lost puppy.

Moaning, Abby leant forward and buried her face in her hands. What was she doing? This wasn't her, she didn't get jealous, or mean spirited- especially about team members, they were like family to her.

It had to be the stress of the last several months, ever since Ziva came back from Somalia the entire team had kind of hit the ground running and hadn't had much time to slow down and deal with the emotional back log, or the changes in their own lives. Gibbs and Tony had both been unceremoniously promoted and had been forced to jump into the roles of Director and team leader without any room for failure or learning. McGee had been upgraded to Senior Field Agent and found himself with the task of hiring his replacement, even while operating without a partner due to Ziva's presumed return filling that position. And in Ziva's absence, Abby had found herself delegated the role of watching all three men, making sure none of them were pushing themselves to breaking point. When Ziva had been there, her role hadn't extended much further than keeping the occasional eye on Gibbs during long cases, McGee had been in a position of less stress and required less concern, Tony she had left solely to Ziva, knowing that his partner understood his moods and mannerisms better than she ever could, even if the woman had been unaware of just how much work the Senior Field Agent did.

Abby groaned and placed her head in her hands as the guilt assaulted her anew.

"Right" she whispered to herself, "No more thinking bad thoughts of Ziva as of...now!"

"My," a deep voice interrupted her reverie, startling her, "This is certainly an interesting establishment"

Quickly Abby looked up and paled visibly when she saw Eli David standing over her, his face fixed into a politely bored look,

"May I sit down?" he requested, already removing his jacket and setting it over the back of the chair,

"Um...okay" she replied belatedly, straightening her spine and wondering what the hell was going on. A waitress appeared and she watched as Ziva's father gave the woman an empty smile and rattled off an order, not even checking the menu to see if it was available. She'd seen Ziva do that a hundred different times, Tony too occasionally. At first she'd been embarrassed when they had done that around her, wondering if they were deliberately rude to the staff. Then she had had a few dinners with corporate head hunters who were paid millions every year to bring in assets like her and noticed the exact same confidence.

The confidence of the rich. The confidence of never having known rejection or humiliation because you didn't wear a certain brand of clothes or pronounce words like _Moet_ and _Foie Gras_ properly. The confidence of never having seen instant rejection in a strangers face because you came from the wrong part of town or lived near a wrecking yard.

And the true confidence that even while Eli David made the order had him politely asking Abby if she wanted anything. The true confidence that meant they would never have to flaunt their class status before others because it was secure and everlasting.

It made her feel all of three years old.

The waitress hurried off and Eli David took a moment to fill his glass from the complimentary jug of water on the table, seeming unhurried and unfazed about the weird situation they found themselves in. Abby wondered if perhaps she ought to try to send an SOS text message to one of the team, but her logical mind told her that Eli David was not about to take out a gun and unload a round of bullets into her head. Not in a populated area anyway.

"So..." he began, taking a sip of water, "What has my daughter down now that has upset you so?"

Wow, he was like evil Gibbs with his mindreading skills.

Gathering her thoughts like crazy, Abby didn't even attempt a smile,

"What...what makes you think I'm upset?" she tried to fix her poker-face, but he just grinned chidingly,

"My dear Miss Scuito, I have been Ziva's father for thirty-two years, and for the last nineteen years I have been witness to many a display of feminine distress or jealousy around my daughter"

A blush crept unwittingly onto her face and she clenched her fists in a rare bout of self-loathing.

Eli David gave her a predatory grin and she had a flashback to the one picture NCIS had obtained of Ari Haswari, except that Kate had managed to see kindness in his eyes and try as she might, Abby saw nothing but cruelty in his father's,

"You do realise that it won't stop" he warned her quietly, his voice no longer full of arrogance but something else, something that seemed a lot like honesty or truthfulness- had it been coming from anyone else.

"Ziva will not be satisfied with the attention of Agent DiNozzo alone, as loving and attentive a man as I am sure he is. My daughter apparently thinks she did not receive enough love as a child and now as an adult seeks it like an alcoholic with wine, she has to be the focus of everyone around her...otherwise she gets...difficult and seeks it elsewhere...she's quite like my son in that manner- he used women and seemed to take a savage pleasure in rejecting them when they were not able to give him what they wanted..."

"And whose fault do you reckon that is!" Abby spat in disgust, horrified by what he was carelessly revealing to her and taking pleasure in seeing his lips thin.

"Quite" he admitted, throwing an absent smile as the waitress brought his order,

"So why are you telling me this?"

Eli David shrugged with a charming smile, "I am simply warning you that my daughter is not...normal"

Normal- the most ridiculous word in the English language.

She snapped then.

Glaring daggers at her enemy, Abby leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table,

"And you think the rest of us are any better?" she matched his cruel smile with one of her own.

"The only way Gibbs can cope and function through his ever-enduring grief is by enforcing psychological and emotional control over us all with his rules. Ducky knows he has missed his chance for a family and is so lonely that even with Palmer's friendship he still talks to corpses. McGee creates a fantasy world to deal with the monstrosity of ours, a world in which he makes every last one of us suffer and finds comfort in it. Tony parades before us all hoping that if he puts on the mask he can hide his real self- the man with an evil streak that could impress even you if you ever saw it. Me- I'm a bonafide freak and damn if I don't enjoy the tattoos, the vampire friends, the voodoo dolls and the death paraphernalia that is my every day. I get off on seeing the initial shock and discomfort in stranger's eyes and it makes me cheerful...So Mr David- you can tell me every last one of your daughter's dark little secrets but its not going to make a difference- there's a reason our team doubles as a surrogate family and its cause we recognise that we are all deeply fucked up and not one of us cares to change a single thing"

Picking up her cupcake she took a large bite and savoured the sweet cream cheese icing and, deciding that her meal was now on him, picked up her bag and swept from the cafe.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N- Wow an update that didn't take me a month to get round to, someone check the bible and make sure it isn't a sign of the apocalypse! Seriously though, I would like to thank everyone who illegally uploaded season 7 of NCIS onto the internet and thus prevented me from having to endure the agonizingly long wait for regular Australian viewing times, all my NCIS works are dedicated to you!

P.S- I still own nothing.

* * *

Ziva looked down at the worn duffel bag stationed on the middle of the bed, feeling a small sense of despondency for the few possessions that sat inside it. Everything she owned barely filled the carrier thats primary occupation appeared to be for gym clothes and a night's travel at least.

When she had first come to America for Ari she'd had three suitcases and a travel kit, when she had returned as an NCIS agent- twice- she had required a shipping container for all her personal necessities. Not just her clothes either, although her interest in fashion had somehow astounded the team, but her favourite books, a few select pieces of furniture, some souvenirs from her years of travel and her pictures.

Her photos of Ari and Talia.

When she was a child she had done ballet and every term there had been a concert for the parents to show how advanced their children were becoming.

Her parents had never attended.

Ironically, Hasmia, Ari's mother who had made a point of avoiding any unnecessary interaction with the David family, had become one of the studio's permanent audience members when she had realised that the only person who ever saw Ziva dance was the chauffeur. She had swapped shifts at the hospital where she worked and even skipped religious obligations so that Ziva never had to look out at the crowd and see that she was alone.

Once she had even confronted Eli about the matter as she had dropped Ari off for the weekend, when he had shown a lack of interest, simply telling her to take photos for him, she had stormed into his office and found a camera issued to him by the Mossad, telling him that he would get it back when he came to take the pictures himself.

Six years later, when Ziva had been helping Ari to pack for medical school in Scotland, she had found the camera tucked away in the closet, Hasmia having long since bought a newer, easier model. After replacing the batteries and finding some old film, she had gone on a photo taking rampage, spending the rest of the afternoon snapping Hasmia and Ari as they had gone about their tasks until Talia had turned up and become a victim as well. It had taken Hasmia and Talia tackling her to the bed and tickling her senseless to stop, but when the photos had been developed she had become addicted.

There on thirty pieces of twelve by twelve rectangles, was proof that she wasn't alone.

In all her years of ballet, the concerts, the awards ceremonies, the dress rehearsals, she had always been photographed by herself, leading anyone to look at them to assume she had nobody to be in the photos with.

Now she had images, mostly blurry and unflattering, of her family, of people who loved her.

By the time she volunteered as a liaison at NCIS, she had over five hundred photos. Mostly of Ari, Talia and herself together in their happy threesome or with friends, a dozen or so of some occasionally visited aunts and uncles and even one of her father at a gala with an Israeli Prime Minister. Neatly filed away in photo albums, dated and labelled with the negatives kept separate in case of damage, she had selected the books with pictures of her siblings to take to Washington.

When she had been recalled she had carried them back.

And left them in Israel, thinking that, when Michael moved in with her, she could start another album, filled with pictures of them as a happy couple and later as husband and wife.

So now she stood in Gibbs guest bedroom with the majority of her possessions having been bought by Tony, the remaining paid for by the few fritter accounts she'd set up in America and forgotten about, otherwise the Mossad likely would have claimed those too. Anything else she had ever owned had been blown up in her last apartment or left behind in Israel, with the probability that she would never see them again.

___________

* * *

_

There was a gentle knock on the door and Tony meandered in, his face set in a loving but slightly strained smile.

"Hey" he whispered, coming up behind her to wrap his arms about her waist and kiss the back of her head,

"Any regrets?" she joked, running her hands up to cover his, feeling him shake his head behind her,

"None- just wondering whether I should ring the boss man now, giving him the chance to rip me a new one over the phone, or leave him a note which will buy me some time but may result in him turning up to m-our apartment later tonight with a shotgun and a head slap"

Ziva frowned even as a little part of her glowed at Tony's deliberate reference to their apartment. The apartment that Tony had asked her to move in to, either as a roommate or his lover he didn't care, as long as she was there with him.

Fortunately she had already found his bed to be quite comfortable.

"Why would he bring both a gun and a head slap? Surely shooting you would be adequate enough punishment? Anything else would be overkill"

He chuckled into her hair, "The head slap would be for you David"

"Me?"

"Yeah, for being foolish enough to break rule number twelve with me in the first place" he pointed out, his hands beginning to run smooth circles over her abdomen. She sniggered,

"Ah...in that case I shall lie and say that you took advantage of me"

His body shook against her back with his laughter, "Yeah...there isn't a person in existence who thinks you wouldn't be able to kick my ass in any situation David, Gibbs sure as hell won't believe you"

She grinned and fought the distraction as Tony's hands came up to tenderly cup her breasts through her NCIS t-shirt. Most men, almost all of her ex-boyfriends and probably Gibbs as well, would have trouble admitting that there were women out there stronger than them. Which meant that Tony was either confident enough in his manhood to acknowledge the fact, or she had just kicked his ass in too many situations for him to be able to deny it any longer.

Either way he was certainly right- Gibbs would never believe that her moving out of his home was not a joint decision, one that they had both been secretly toying with since her return.

"Well" she shrugged quickly, carelessly, "We are screwed"

"Hmmm" Tony murmured against her neck in agreement, his hands still gently massaging her breasts, "Are you nearly done packing?"

She smiled and rested her head back against his shoulder, feeling the beginnings of an erection against her buttocks, "Why Tony, do you have something planned?"

"Maybe"

She laughs, promises him that she is nearly done and asks if he could bring her a glass of water. When he is gone she takes the opportunity to duck into the bathroom across the hall and grab the toiletries back he had bought for her a few months back, a travel kit filled with miniature items and a toothbrush. Except that it had long since been emptied out and filled with other things.

A granola bar and a tin of meat- she still had trouble not hoarding food- and her medication.

All the little pills designed to combat PTSD.

Atarax, Topimax, Vivactil and Paxil.

They sounded like breeds of dinosaurs rather than medication designed to prevent the symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder- yet Ziva had to admit on some basic level they did work. She was able to sleep and had not had any panic attacks for over a month now, she had been intimate with Tony and even been able to experience an orgasm- though the doctors had warned that generally someone as heavily medicated as her would not be able to do so.

Guess that meant that she and Tony were just especially good at it.

Hearing Tony on the steps she hurried back into the guest bedroom and shoved the kit into the duffel bag, fixing a smile on her face when he came into the room. He held out the glass even as he put a photo face down on the shelf, not distracted for a second, Ziva sipped the water even as she eased across the room and flicked the photo up between her two fingers.

Special Agent Caitlin Todd stared back at her with an expression of annoyance and confidence, with an NCIS cap and a suit that ended with a skirt. Fashionable but hardly practical field agent wear.

"It was our first crime scene together" Tony explained quietly, "Air Force One aside. I took some pictures of her as a joke, but they were uploaded onto the computer along with everything else, I guess after she...went, Gibbs must have got someone to make some hard copies for him"

"Or he made them himself" Ziva suggested quietly, studying the pretty woman her brother had so thoughtlessly killed, but even in the gravity of the situation Tony scoffed at the idea,

"Gibbs downloading and printing off photos Ziva?"

"You would be amazed at what some people do for love" she held the picture up to him, the only picture of the team that she had ever seen in Gibbs home, the only picture aside from the ones of Shannon and Kelly.

"Gibbs loved her, did he not?" she watched as he went quiet for a moment, his eyes filled with such sadness for the partner he had lost.

"There was something there," he admitted finally, "No doubt about it, I don't know if they acted on it, but she lit up every time he came into the room and he...smiled a lot more when she was around"

Seeing his grief, feeling her heart tug in sympathetic pain, she placed the photo down and cupped his cheek in her hand, "It still hurts?"

His breathing became shaky and he averted his eyes, even as he reached up and wrapped his hand around her wrist keeping her caress trapped against his cheek.

"There are days, weeks even when I don't think about her, but one day its April and the next it's May 23rd and I'm telling myself I'm going to be fine tomorrow..." he broke off and pressed her hand to his lips, kissing it fiercely and she had to resist the urge to pull him into her embrace and comfort him,

"But then it rolls around to one thirteen in the afternoon and for an entire minute I can't breathe, I can't think..." he gave her a strained smile, "I guess it's my own tribute to Katie"

Ziva did not respond, she had lowered her gaze and was looking past him, out the bedroom window where a wintry but picturesque scene of American suburbia greeted her.

But that was not what she saw.

_________________

* * *

_

_"Come!"_

Ziva strode into the office, shutting the door behind her and facing the man seated at his desk, pouring over documents with a pen in hand and his glasses in the other.

The glasses were a recent acquisition, she was not entirely certain when he had obtained them, they had simply appeared in his life one day and she had known better than to ask why. Such trivial questions were not allowed between them.

"You requested to see me Deputy Director?" she prompted quietly, clasping her hands in front of her in a politely demure yet still soldierly manner, he had lectured her once about familiarity in the office and in the same breath told her that she was to stop acting like a man but not become a woman.

"When was the last time you spoke to Officer Haswari?" he questioned, taking off his glasses and staring up at her with bloodshot eyes, exhaustion evident in his tone.

__

She faltered over the answer, "L...we discussed his current mission two days ago and he advised me that he was maintaining communication silence with both the Mossad and his FBI handlers so as to prevent any damage to his cover-"

"Ziva!" he interrupted her lie by bringing his hands down onto his desk, the sound making her jump,

"When was the last time you spoke with Ari?"

Her jaw dropped in surprise and she was unable to speak.

Eli never referred to her brother by his first name outside of the family home. He did not answer to anything but Officer Haswari unless she herself called him; even then she never dared to call him Ari when other Mossad operatives were around. His name was private, something sacrosanct.

Eli had just committed heresy in that decorously furbished office.

"Last night," she revealed, looking to the ground in shame. They had broken one of the strictest operational rules in the Mossad. He had broken communication silence and risked everything to ring her and wish her goodnight, to tell her that he loved her and would be home soon.

She had promised to pray for his safety, had assured him that she was collecting his mail and watering his plants, that the attractive waitress at their favourite cafe was asking when he would be back.

They had risked everything for ten minutes of domesticity, the only time they pretended to be normal siblings, it was a game they had played for seven years, ever since she had first joined the Mossad and begun calling him in the hopes that his deep, warm voice would alleviate her stresses and fears.

She had never known it to fail and had assumed their secret was safe.

Until now.

"And did he say anything that seemed unusual or out of character?"

Ziva pretended to consider this even as pondered trying to explain to her father that she and Ari never discussed work during these conversations, but he would not understand.

"No" she answered simply, "He seemed perfectly fine, a little tired but Al-Qaeda has been demanding..."

"Did he say anything about their orders for him to kill Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

The American Agent that had shot her brother in the shoulder, just missing his joints. When he had stepped off the plane in Israel and she had seen the bandages she had wanted to blow the Marine sniper's brains out. He had laughed and told her it was to 'better convince Al-Qaeda'.

He had seen the humour in the situation; she had seen red and nearly punched a hole in the airport wall.

"No" she repeated, "However we have known of these orders for quite some time so we will need to act upon them soon with at least a faked attempt on his life or..."

"He already has" Eli interrupted, leaning his elbows on his desk and burying his face in his hands.

His rare display of emotion was worse than a thousand bombs exploding over Israel, worse than the seas boiling, the buildings collapsing and the skies falling.

"What has happened papa?" she asked, unshed tears forming in her eyes, when he faced her again, there was nothing readable in his expression.

"Your brother has gone rogue" he told her flatly, "Today instead of following the mission guidelines he murdered one Special Agent Todd. I think he is working for Hamas"

The word was in Ziva's mouth, the denial, the rejection of the words spoken by the stranger before her.

But she could not speak.

"I am telling you this to warn you, as his control officer, that I am sending a team to Washington to locate and return him to Israel so that he may face criminal charges and..."

"No"

There she had said it.

He looked her dead in the eye and even now bristled at the lack of respect being shown to his position, "Pardon?"

She did not look at him; she fixed her gaze outside his office window to the city of Tel Aviv below, willing herself not to break.

"If Officer Haswari has indeed gone rogue, then he will not go quietly, if a team of Mossad operatives try to approach him he will either flee or attack. He has never trusted you and will not do so now"

She does not know why she added that insult decorated with fact and made to look like a normal statement.

Perhaps because Ari Haswari is everything to her and the old man sitting at the hand crafted desk with a bottle of bourbon and glasses that betray his weakness is nothing.

Perhaps because she is angry and heartbroken and wants nothing more than to see her brother again.

"What do you suggest?"

She tried not to let her contempt show as her eyes flickered to him, "Send me instead, I am the only control officer that has ever had any sway over Officer Haswari, he does not listen to anyone else thus I am the only person with the ability to bring him back to Israel without a higher body count"

He greets this rebellious statement with little more than a nod, showing that he had already considered this line of action and had agreed to it. That all he had wanted from her was her betrayal of the one man who had always been there for her, who had held her when she cried, who had let her crawl into his bed when she had a nightmare, who had skipped his own graduation celebrations in Scotland to fly to Israel and see her graduation from the IDF.

For the most fleeting of moments, she understood how her brother could have joined the same terrorist organization that had blown their little sister to bits.

"You fly out in one hour" he told her, "Cargo plane, straight to Washington, once you arrive go straight to the NCIS offices and see what can be done to smooth over the situation"

She murmured something in the way of obedience and bowed before fleeing his office. Sobbing as she made her way to the airport, she was halfway there before realizing that her headlights were off. At ten o'clock at night in Israel, this was nothing short of suicide.

* * *

"Zi...? Ziva?"

Ziva gasped and spluttered as water hit her in the face. Choking and snorting as it ran up her nose she wiped her hands from her forehead to her chin to rid herself of the offending liquid.  
Opening her eyes she found Tony staring at her and glared at him,

"What was that for?" she demanded, her voice thick with grief and agony,

"You've been standing there staring out the window and crying for half an hour, you were freaking me out, I was five seconds away from calling Ducky and Gi-..."

She didn't let him finish, she threw herself at him with such force that he staggered back and hit the wall, barely avoiding falling to the floor. She'd cupped his face in her hands and was kissing him with all the passion she could muster. He automatically responded, kissing her back cautiously, his eyes flying open in shock as she jammed her hand into his pants and grabbed his shaft.

"Ever heard of going slowly David?" he quipped as he turned around, pressing her into the wall and hitching her up onto his thigh. She released him and kissed him again, the tears which she had unknowingly shed for the least thirty minutes, starting anew and falling from her cheeks onto his lips.

"I love you" she blurted out, sniffing and pulling back, staring down at his face as it registered his shock and what she hoped was delight,

"You know this yes?"

He nodded and opened his mouth to return the sentiment but she shook her head and pushed him away so she could drop to the ground. She hurried to the bedroom door and slipped her bare feet into the too big sneakers she'd been provided with that had likely once belonged to Shannon.

"Where are you going?" Tony demanded as she ran down the stairs, the thundering down loud inside the otherwise silent house.

"Ziva!"

She reached his car before he realised that she had lifted his keys from his jeans pocket. He appeared in the front yard as she pulled away from the curb so quickly the tires screeched and she narrowly avoided missing a car coming from the other direction.

According to the outside thermometer in the car, it was twenty-two degrees Fahrenheit and all she was wearing was an NCIS t-shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans and sneakers.

But that did not matter.

Because she had just realised the secret Vance and Ben-Gidon had been willing to kill for.

* * *

A/N- Now some people might think I have made a slight error in this chapter. But no I haven't, so what does that mean?


	33. Chapter 33

A/N- This is shorter than the rest but I just wanted to get it out.

* * *

It had been several months since the CIA had stormed into the Israeli embassy and turned everything upside down.

Malachi Stein had since been appointed as Israel's ambassador to the U.S after the last dignitary had been removed in the calamity that had been the Mossad regime change. He had been a former Mossad officer with strong ties to the David family, so he had been recalled to Israel and 'disappeared' one night, with Malachi arriving to take his place. He had been chosen because he had never met the David family, and owed his current position to Officer Hadar.

Therefore when he entered his office to find his secretary in a flutter and a badly dressed woman going through his filing cabinet without the least bit of respect- he had no idea whom he was addressing.

"Ziva David" the intruder informed him, not even looking up as she rifled through the files she had placed on his desk, "Former Mossad officer, newly appointed American citizen..."

"I know who you are" he interrupted, adjusting his glasses, "But what the hell are you doing in my office?"

"Searching" she replied, obviously opening a file and sorting through the pages. He spluttered in disbelief,

"Those files are private, you do not have the authority"

"I am the reason half those files are there and had Hadar not overthrown my father in an illegal coup you would not even be here" she trailed off and stared at a piece of paper in her hand, her face going a deathly pale. Behind him he heard the security guards arrive and hesitate, clearly recognizing the woman and unsure of how to act.

"I am leaving" she announced to the room, tucking the piece of paper into her jeans pocket, carrying the rest of the file and sweeping pushing past them.

"Hang on" he chased after her as she reached the fire exit stairwell, "Whatever's in that file- you can't just take it"

She stopped then and laughed, long and loud with a dangerous edge that made Malachi Stein stop and hesitate, "This file" she waved it in the air,

"This file is going to cement Hadar's position as Director of Mossad, it is going to send my father to prison and possibly me as well. This file is going to destroy _everything!_" her voice as risen to a screech and people were sticking their heads through doorways to see what the commotion was about. Malachi ignored them, captivated by the horrendous look on Ziva David's face,

"Do yourself a favour ambassador" she whispered, "Pretend you never saw this file before in your life, it may just be enough to save you"

* * *

"Abby...Abby I need you!"

McGee had reached Abby's lab at a dead run and looked around frantically, he was already wound up so when she appeared from behind the skeleton and jumped him, he yelped like a hurt puppy.

She ignored this and pressed a fierce kiss to his lips, staining them with her newly applied red lipstick.

The force of the impact knocked them both to the floor, McGee groaned as his head smacked against the hard surface and Abby broke the kiss and cooed in sympathy, stroking his hair,

"I need you too Timmy" she whispered, staring into his confused eyes,

"Uh...that's not what I meant" he began but she stopped him, pressing a finger to his lips,

"I know but no talking yet, I just want to say...I know I screwed up, I hurt you the first time round and I cost us something great and the future we might have had. If I hadn't freaked out we would probably be married and might even have had kids. As it is...I'm forty-two so any chance of conception has gone out the window...and there isn't a day I'm not gonna hate myself for doing that to you Timmy, but we're happy together, as happy as members of the NCIS MCRT team can be, given who we are and all so we're gonna be in a relationship and I can't tell you where its gonna go but I'm gonna warn you now that there's no exit strategy. You can be miserable, you can yell, hell you can even go fuck that chick that did your lie detector test, but at the end of the day you'll come home to me. So, deal with it"

She kissed him again, this time able to slip her tongue into his mouth which had dropped open in shock.

"Now" she prompted, pulling back "What is it you wanted to say?"

"Uh...marry me..._no_...uh, Ziva's missing"he reported, earning himself a glare for his efforts,

"Did Tony or Gibbs ask for your help finding Ziva?" she questioned, her glare warning him that five seconds in to their new relationship he was already in trouble,

"Yes" he replied truthfully and Abby scrambled off him, offering a hand to help him up,

"Then the answer is yes Timmy"

"Okay..." Tim took a deep breath and tried to catch up to the events whirling around him, "Um...Tony says that Ziva was in Gibbs house with him when she suddenly bolted out the door in t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, she also stole his car"

Abby was already firing up the computers, "Did Tony put a BOLO out?"

"Well no, he doesn't want the cops involved because then the car would be stolen and not borrowed...Ziva will bring it back, probably"

She smirked, "With her driving? More likely it's already in the reflecting pool of the Mall"

She tapped a few more keys and listed Ziva as missing in her programs only to receive a contradictory bleep in response. Quickly she followed the link, and grinned,

"Case solved Timmy; she just arrived in the lobby"

"Of NCIS?" McGee checked, Ziva seemed to have a habit of turning up in the lobbies of other agencies,

"Yep," she turned as McGee nodded and grabbed out his mobile texting frantically,

"I'll go see if she's alright"

He scurried out of the lab and returned only moments later to give her a quick peck on the cheek,

"I'll ring my grandmother for her ring later" he promised absently, disappearing again.

Not noticing Abby's giggles as she guessed that McGee was probably in a state of shock.

Never mind, they'd sort everything out later.

* * *

"Dammit Ziva don't ever do this to me again!"

Palmer looked up as Tony stormed into autopsy, carrying a shivering Ziva in his arms, in the dim light of the room it took Palmer a second to realise that her extremities were blue from the cold.

"Good Heavens Ziva" Doctor Mallard chastised as he came forward, gesturing for Tony to place her on one of the tables, "What have you been up to?"

Ziva didn't answer but instead buried her face in Tony's neck refusing to release him when he tried to let go.

"Okay, Zee, Duck can't look at you if I'm on top of you" Tony reasoned, "Not that I mind being on top of you but it's not fair on the other guys in the room"

Palmer sniggered at the joke and received a disciplinary glance from Doctor Mallard for his troubles.

Both men came forward and tried to ease Ziva's strong grip on Tony, finally getting her to lay back against the table only to see that she was barely conscious from the cold.

"How on earth did she get like this?" Ducky demanded as Gibbs and McGee came into the room,

"Palmer call Abby and ask her to bring down some blankets, grab the hypothermia blanket and someone turn up the heat!"

"Someone want to tell me what's going on?" Gibbs asked quietly as people around him hurried to fill out Doctor Mallard's orders,

"Ask Anthony" Ducky replied curtly, pressing his stethoscope to Ziva's chest to hear her heartbeat,

Tony spread his hands wide and took a step away from the leader, obviously fearing the mother of all head slaps, "Boss I swear, she lifted my keys and then ran out of your house like it was on fire"

"Is my house on fire DiNozzo?" Gibbs inquired, his voice dangerously low, Tony blinked in shock,

"Of course not boss!"

"Then what were you and Ziva doing, inside my house, _alone_?"

Despite the supposed urgency of the situation, all the other men in the room paused to witness the impending train wreck.

"Um...she...well we weren't needed after the funeral and I thought...hang on boss"

Tony spun on his heel, presenting the back of his head to Gibbs who dealt the ceremonial slap.

"It was my fault Gibbs"

Ziva's weak voice caught their attention; he leant over and looked down at her gently,

"I should have known...it is my fault, all my fault and I am so _so_ sorry"

Realising belatedly that Ziva was on a different wavelength to the rest of the room. Gibbs held out his hand as Ziva withdrew a piece of paper from her jeans, placing it in his palm.

Unfolding it, Gibbs squinted at the words, walking over the light and holding it at arm's length before realising why he couldn't make sense of the words.

They were Hebrew characters.

"Want to explain this to me David?" he asked, walking back to the table,

"It is the Mossad report of Caitlin Todd's death" she whispered, reaching over and catching Tony's finger with one of her own and holding it tight. "I never bothered reading it before today"

Palmer took an unconscious step backward, a part of him knowing that he did not want to hear whatever was about to be said.

"Ziva..." Gibbs began nervously,

"Tony told me that Kate died at thirteen hundred hours, this is correct?"

She was weeping now, tears running down her face. Moments later, she wasn't the only one.

"I was told of her death in Israel at eighteen hundred hours"

Gibbs looked as though he had been punched in the gut; the sound he made as he clenched the autopsy table was one of pain. Ducky moaned and turned away. Palmer met Tony's eyes across the room and saw confusion and the beginning of a terrible comprehension. Yet it fell to Palmer to ask the question, as it always did because nobody else had the courage to show their misunderstanding.

"What does that mean exactly?"

"There is a nine hour time difference between Israel and America Mr Palmer" Doctor Mallard told him quietly, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead. The younger man opened and closed his mouth several times before being capable of speech,

"But that means..."

"I was told of Caitlin Todd's death four hours before it happened" Ziva announced in a flat voice as she struggled to sit up, reminding Palmer that she was still in need of medical attention,

"The only way my father could have known of this..."

"Is if he had ordered it himself" Gibbs finished, turning and marching from the room. McGee following closely on his heels, rubbing at his eyes. Tony shared a long look with Ziva before he too left.

Silently Doctor Mallard and Palmer tended to her ailment as Abby scurried in, her arms full of blankets,

"Oh my god Ziva! I was so worried..."

Almost immediately she picked up on the atmosphere, looking around in confusion,

"What did I miss?"

* * *

A/N- hey it makes sense! As Gibbs will explain in the next chapter.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N- Here we go, we're on to the second last chapter, I promise and Forget Not Yet is onto its last chapter once I post it up.

* * *

When he thought about it, it made sense.

Such perfect, indisputable, logical beyond belief sense.

Prior to her assignment at NCIS, Ziva had worked with intelligence agencies the world over. Her experience and diplomatic relations gaining her prime positions on the numerous different crime teams.

Except that on Gibbs team she would have been redundant and he would never have shafted one of his own members just to make the politicians happy.

Jenny had been one of Ziva's closest friends, her life had been saved by the young Israeli- she owed her, and ergo the Mossad a favour, but even Jenny wouldn't have demoted Caitlin Todd or shifted her sideways to make room for the Liaison position.

Of course Ziva could have been sent to the CIA, FBI or one of the hundreds of other agencies in the alphabet soup- but why bother with the trouble when she already had an alliance with the soon to be Director of NCIS?

Why bother when, with one order, a position could be cleared for her and set off a chain of events that would lead to her earning the trust of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs?

Why bother indeed?

Except that NCIS Special Agent Caitlin Todd, Kate, had not been just some obstacle, an inconvenience to be taken care of with the same disinterest with which one would dispose of en empty coffee cup.

Kate had been a person, a human being.

She had breathed, she had walked, she had smiled, she had laughed, she had liked to draw and loved to sing, even though she couldn't carry a note. She had liked to take Tony the dog for nice long walks with different routes every week, she had liked to snuggle up with a good book on cold winter afternoons.

She had been a living organism, with all her pieces joined together to make the most sweet, beautiful and perfect of women.

And Gibbs had loved her.

In his own blind, incapable way, he had relished having her in his life.

He remembered that feeling now, that happiness that had intruded its way into every aspect of his being and that everlasting horrifying grief when he had seen returned to the rooftop and slipped on her brain matter, crashing to the ground and staining the back of his pants with her blood.

* * *

He stormed into his office now, ignoring the secretary and slamming the door shut behind him.  
Eli David was sitting at _his_ desk, using _his_ phone, smiling in his sickening way. Without a thought, without even breathing, Gibbs stormed to the corner and yanked the phone cord from the wall, taking the plaster with it and severing the Israeli's connection.

If he hoped to see surprise or outrage mirrored in his enemy's features he was disappointed. Eli simply replaced the now useless phone to the hook and folded his fingers together, watching him with infuriating complacency.

"I have good news Agent Gibbs" he gave him a crocodile smile,  
"But judging from the look on your face, I would say that you have some bad?"

Gibbs placed his hands on the edge of the desk and leaned over to glare hatefully into the smug bastard's eyes, "You are nothing but a callous murderer and to call you a dog would be an honest to god compliment"

Eli didn't even blink, he simply leaned back in the chair, "Were this any other federal agency in the world, I would ask how you could so far forget yourself as to insult me in such a manner- however as this is NCIS, I shall ignore that comment- don't you want to talk about my good news?"

"No" Gibbs wanted to dig his nails so far into the desk that the wood would break and splinter in his furious hands,

"I want to talk about Special Agent Caitlin Todd"

"The woman my son murdered?" Eli says this so casually, without even a flicker of emotion in his voice, that Gibbs feels something within him scream in fury.

"The agent your son was ordered to kill" he snarls from between his teeth.

This finally elicits a reaction from the Israeli; he sits up and straightens his jacket, pulling at the cuffs of the expensive suit,

"I was not aware that Al-Qaeda had ordered him to eliminate that woman"

But he won't meet Gibbs eyes and the former Marine can smell the lie- and the fear-rolling off him in waves.

"_They_ didn't, your son never went rogue, he was a loyal Mossad operative right up until you burned him"

Eli finally met his eyes and glared at him with indignation, "Prove it!"

Gibbs leaned back and smirked, "Time difference. The official Mossad document pertaining to Kate's death lists her as dying at nine o'clock in the morning; she died at thirteen hundred hours that same day..."

"Clerical error" Eli excused, standing up suddenly and looking towards the door nervously. Gibbs stayed where he was, shaking his head mirthfully,

"No" he disagreed, "No, it wasn't...Ziva remembers being told of Agent Todd's death at eighteen hundred hours, Israeli time that same day, when Kate was still alive"

"My daughter has just been through a very traumatic experience Agent Gibbs, and from what I have heard, is heavily medicated with anti-depressants at most times...is there a court in the world where her testimony would not be suspect?"

That statement was so weak, so desperate that Gibbs knew he was on the right path; he rounded the desk to block Eli's way and stare the shorter man down,

"Whatever Ari's faults were," Gibbs whispered "You can't deny he was intelligent, he must have known you were going to burn him and left just enough evidence behind to destroy you"

"And my daughter" Eli threatened

"No" the former Marine shook his head, "I reckon that if we do some digging, we'll find evidence that he accepted these orders without knowledge or consent from his control officer, doesn't matter either way Eli...I am going to tear down your life, piece by agonizing piece and make you regret every single minute you breathe until the day you die"

The Israeli man's relieved smile threw him for a minute, "No, Agent Gibbs, unfortunately you are not, the good news I mentioned earlier? It turns out that Officer Hadar's coup was in fact illegal and as such I have been reappointed Director of the Mossad, which grants me _full_ diplomatic immunity. I fly home this evening, shalom"

* * *

He stepped around him and made it to the door before Gibbs recovered enough to speak,

"Ziva stays here!" his cry sounded almost desperate, almost like a plea and he hated himself for the weakness as the new reinstated Director turned back with a careless shrug,

"After Rivkin and Somalia, it is clear that these events have broken her- even if she were to return to the Mossad she would be almost useless in the field and have no advantage for me...by all means Agent Gibbs, she is yours to keep"

The door quietly snipped shut as Eli strode from the office and Gibbs felt exhausted, all the life drained from him by the knowledge that he had failed,

"I'm sorry Kate" he moaned, looking out the large window to see evening fall on the streets of Washington. Willing tears not to fall from his eyes,

"It's okay Gibbs, you weren't to know"

* * *

Sighing, he turned around and saw Kate sitting on the office couch, dressed not in the clothes he had last seen her in, but in a brown shirt and black pants, one foot tucked under the other as she reclined back, studying her former boss with affection and pity. Her forehead was clear of any marks and her hair fell about her unimpeded by ay bullets.

"Eli David has spent his entire life training himself to be as deceptive and as dangerous as an adder- you were lucky to have survived...unlike some of us"

Flinching, Gibbs saw that Ari Haswari had joined Kate on the couch, wearing the same outfit that Ziva had shot him dead in, blood trickling down his face though there was no evident wound to be found there. The man's arm was stretched along the back of the couch, coming to rest around Kate's shoulders.

"You were trying to warn me that night at the cafe weren't you?" Gibbs guessed, leaning against his desk and studying his enemy. Haswari gave him a wily grin,

"But of course...and you were right in what you told my father before, dig deep enough Agent Gibbs and you will find the evidence..."

"Why'd you do it?" Gibbs interrupted, coming forward and perching on the coffee table,

"If you had warned us properly, if you had brought the evidence to us, if you had switched loyalties..."

"You still would have found a way to kill him Gibbs" Kate reprimanded, her tone showing her disproval, "he could have led us to Bin Laden and every last terrorist in existence and you still would have emptied a round into him"

Haswari shrugged at the comment, "I was a dead man the day I took you from him, remember that day at the farm when we played 'Where is the pea?' and drank the chardonnay?"

Kate smirked, "_You_ drank the chardonnay, I was too nervous and half expected it to be spiked with poison"

"You wound me Caitlin; Arab hospitality is renowned for its kind treatment towards guests"

"And what about Hamas hospitality huh?"

"Ah but I was Mossad"

"I didn't know that at the time and I don't see how either are about to win awards for good manners"

Gibbs cleared his throat and the two ceased the playful bickering and looked to him expectantly,

"Sorry" Kate smiled, "We get like that sometimes"

He looked between the two of them, "I see you've forgiven each other then?"

Kate shrugged, "It's easy to do where we are"

Gibbs reached forward and rested his hand on Kate's knee, "And where is that Katie?"

She bit her lip cheekily, and rattled something off in Spanish, causing him to frown in confusion,

"Where?"

She shook her head, "Sorry Gibbs, we can't tell you that from here"

"But what we can point out" Haswari began, bringing Gibbs attention back to him,

"Is that you have made a mistake"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, staring incredulously at the man and his obvious statement,

"Gee, you think? I just let a killer walk out of my office when I should have put a bullet in him"

Haswari pursed his lips and Gibbs saw disappointment in his eyes, and when he spoke, heard anger in his tone,

"No because that would land you in prison for murder, cause relations between Israel and America to reach an all time low and leave my Zivanit unprotected..."

Kate laid a hand on Haswari's knee, and rubbed it gently, calming the man down, they locked eyes for a moment and Gibbs wondered if the eye-talks were a trait handed down through the David genes.

"However," he continued as though he hadn't been interrupted, "There have been situations in the past where you have taken matters into your hands and away from the societal laws of justice to reach more...satisfactory results"

Gibbs sat back on the coffee table as he took in their meaning, their eyes identical in the blank gazes they fixed on him,

"Huh" he murmured as comprehension dawned and nodded once to show that he had understood.

When he blinked however, his visitors were gone and Director Gibbs of NCIS was left sitting in his office, alone.

As he contemplated the removal of his daughter's father.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N- So let me explain this chapter. I hate the stories where every little detail down to some random cameo character's girlfriend trouble is wrapped up nicely and eatly and absolutely everyone has an absolutely happy ending. I mean they're sweet but sometimes...just a little too much if you get what I'm saying. As much as I love TIVA I can't see them walking off into the sunset to never have another problem so long as they both may live. So this chapter was written with the idea of them being happy together without so much of a conventional together. Let me know what you think

* * *

___Sixteen months following Ziva David's return to America..._

_"Thank-you Marcia, and in breaking news from Tel Aviv, the Director of the Israeli Intelligence agency Mossad has been found dead in his home of a suspected heart attack-"_

Abby dove for the remote and with an almost violent assault on the piece of technology, managed to turn off the television just as Ziva re-entered the bullpen.

"Hello Abby" she greeted warmly, sitting down at her desk. Her lingering smile suggesting that she had seen her friend's attempt to protect her emotions.

"Hey" Abby responded, tossing the remote onto Tony's desk and meandering over,

"How's things?" she asked politely, fidgeting with her numerous bracelets as she hovered around the former Israeli's desk.

Ziva started sorting through the ridiculous amounts of paper work on her desk. Since Tony was now team-leader she and McGee had found themselves in the role of Senior Field Agents, which unfortunately meant that they had the responsibilities that had been acquired during Tony's time in the role. It had only been a week before the rest of the team had realised just how much work Tony had done as Gibbs' second-in-command and developed a new respect for the man. Fortunately for Ziva and Tim though, Tony remembered the late hours spent checking over the reports of every team member to ensure there were no mistakes and filling out the requisition forms so they had all the gear they required, as such he would help them out when possible. Finding the correct form, Ziva looked up at her Goth friend,

"Things are good; I have finally convinced my landlord to let me have a dog, provided I reimburse him for any damaged items and do not let him bark at the blue moon"

"_Howl_ Ziva" Tony corrected as he strode through the bullpen, two coffees in hand, ready for his morning pow-wow with Director Gibbs. "You howl at the full moon"

Ziva frowned playfully, pretending not to understand, "Well, I have heard them say that the full moon does bring the crazies out"

Tony winked in response before climbing the stairs to the MTAC gallery.

"So..." Abby drawled the word out, either uncomfortable with the situation or very confused,

"A dog huh?"

Ziva nodded, beginning a long explanation of her reasoning behind the first pet she will ever own. She rambles on about how neither she nor her siblings were allowed to have pets as children and as a well-travelled Mossad officer; it would have been unfair to both her and the pet, though she had always desperately adored animals. While part of her revealed this to Abby, another part of her considered the situation that everyone believed so very odd.

* * *

The very night Eli flew back to Israel, staying in Washington only long enough to call Ziva and let her know that she was officially disowned as a daughter; Ziva had done her best to prove her innocence to the team. Gibbs and Ducky had believed her outright, Palmer had only been confused by the entire situation and McGee had only needed a little convincing before surrendering to her argument with a heartfelt sigh.

Abby and Tony had been another matter.

Abby had screamed at Ziva, calling her a heartless murderer and wishing she was dead. She had stormed out of the building before Ziva could give chase and threatened to resign if Ziva was reinstated as an agent of NCIS.

When Ziva, in tears, had stumbled blindly into the bullpen looking for Tony, she had barely begun her explanation before he had pulled her into his arms, holding her tight, covering her with kisses and reassuring her of his love. That night they had moved in together, both convinced it was the start of a new life for them both.

It was three months before Ziva realised that Tony loving her didn't mean he believed in her innocence.

She discovered that he had been investigating her brother's orders behind her back, searching frantically for fast disappearing proof that she had been unaware of the mission.

Devastated she had walked out on him, spending the night wandering the streets rather than go home to the man who had lied to her. It had been late afternoon the next day before she had returned to the apartment only to find Tony's things gone. He had left a note promising that he loved her, even if it was the most difficult thing he had ever done.  
She had gone to work that Monday to find Tony sitting silently at his desk and Gibbs standing in the bullpen with a murderous look upon his face. Ziva had met the now officially appointed Director's eyes and read the warning clearly,

_'Keep it out of the office'_

And they had done so, with only Tony's sticky note attached to her computer telling her he was staying at a friend's place while he hunted for a new apartment.

Once he found it however, Ziva decided to move into it and give him his old home back, except that Tony wanted a fresh break and put his apartment up for sale. They lived together during this time, spending most of their waking moments apart or silent towards each other but at night they would climb into bed and make love or hold each other with whispered words of affection and encouragement. Oddly enough, this method worked for them, they were both exceptionally strong willed people who enjoyed their personal space, they quickly realised that once the honeymoon phase wore off they were arguing every other second and invading each other's privacy. The next time Ziva found the new apartment, which Tony quickly deemed perfect and moved in to. It was only a twenty minute drive from her home but both of them found that as much as they couldn't stand to always be together, it was even worse to endure unnecessary time and distance apart. As matters currently stood, Tony was looking for a duplex for them both, a place where they could live together and yet still be very much independent.

Meanwhile Gibbs had coaxed Abby back to the office with growing evidence of Ziva's innocence, much to the relief of the FBI where Abby had been temping in their forensics lab. Tony had apologised in his own way by buying Ziva a diamond ring with words of regret carved on the inside.

It wasn't an engagement ring; she was not made for white weddings, but rather a promise of commitment for as long as they could handle one another.

They could love each other forever though.

* * *

Ziva smiled at Abby as she finished her description of the beagle breeder she had been in contact with and the Goth made the obligatory sounds of admiration even as her thoughts were clearly trying to discern the relationship between the recently appointed team leader and newly arranged American citizen and federal agent.

"And how are you and McGee?" Ziva asked kindly, her eyes flickering to the ring that lay on Abby's finger, a lovely antique diamond that had belonged to McGee's grandmother. He had officially proposed to her when she had been refusing all contact from Tony and Ziva and she had thrown a celebratory dinner that Palmer had reported to be 'superb'. The Scuito's and McGee's appeared to like the idea of becoming one family and Sarah was helping Abby plan the wedding.

Ziva had not yet been invited to become one of the bridal party; she knew her relationship with Abby was still too tender. Though the wedding was not for another year and a half, there were rumours that Abby had invited Caitlin Todd's parents, whom she had kept in touch with since their daughter's death. With matters as they were, Ziva wondered if she should even attend or just send Tony along with a present and a claim of 'sudden illness'.

"We're good" Abby nodded, just a touch unconvincingly, "We're perfect actually, we never argue, we never disagree, hell we never even have the basic problems all couples seem to have. We're like a couple out of a fifties sitcom, our parents are ecstatic"

Ziva frowned slightly and rose from her chair, coming to stand close so that McGee would not overhear if he returned to the bullpen, "This is good is it not?"

Abby took a jagged breath and her eyes darted around the squad room quickly before she reached out and grabbed Ziva's hand, "Couples are meant to fight, relationships aren't meant to be so...easy and _perfect._ I mean...look at you and Tony, you two are so head over heels in love and you can't even share a coffee without one of you moving houses!"

"Tony and I are hardly a good example of a healthy relationship Abby" Ziva pointed out incredulously, but Abby only shook her head stubbornly,

"I don't want good and I don't want healthy, I want passionate, I want romantic, I want to yell and scream and then make love on my evidence table...I don't want to wake up one morning and find that we've got ourselves stuck in a rut"

Ziva opened her mouth to suggest that Abby try and speak to McGee about these things when she heard the elevator ding and turned her head to see Tim step off, moving slowly due to conversation with another federal agent. Hastily she faced Abby and whispered frantically,

"It will be alright Abby, you and McGee will be happy together- however you end up. Tony and I...you may think we are crazy yes, but what we have works so well for us both- and if the last two years has taught me anything, it is that you can survive the worst and still find _something_ worth living for at the end of it"

* * *

Stepping back, she smiled at her teary friend and returned to her desk, sitting down and looking to her computer to see an alert from her email account. Already she had over fifty new messages from Israeli friends and acquaintances offering their condolences for the death of her father.

She had already typed an appropriate response and saved a copy which she pasted onto every reply, to maintain that she was a shocked and grieving daughter moved by the sympathy and support that she was receiving at such a difficult and unexpected time.

In truth she had had nearly eight months to accustom herself to her father's death. Gibbs had met with her, late one night, on the rooftop from which her brother had murdered Caitlin Todd. He had told her what he had planned to do to avenge her death and she had been the one to suggest the name of a reliable poisoner who would be able to administer Director David with the correct dosage over a long enough period of time so that if by sheer chance an autopsy was performed, there would be almost no evidence of foul play.

They had kept this conversation secret from everyone. Their 'family' weren't like them; they weren't as strong or as heartless, a fact for which Gibbs and Ziva were both grateful. For they needed good people in their life to 'keep the monsters at bay' as Gibbs put it.

Her email account sent her another alert and Ziva opened her inbox to see that the breeder she had been corresponding with had replied with pictures of the male puppies from her newest litter.

Ziva grinned at the adorable pictures; she decided that she would name her first ever pet Ani Chai.

Hebrew for _I live_.

* * *

A/N- review and let me know what you think


End file.
